Boishaaier 2022

c r e at i v e wr i t i ng

T h e B e s t Mome n t s on t h e T rac k Nothing compares with the feeling of running the home stretch for the relay at an athletics event. You feel the cold metal as your teammate places the baton into your hands and then you are away, running as fast as you can. It is strange, because when you are running, your senses seem to improve and things can get clearer. You can smell all the food stalls, hear your heart beating twice the speed of a normal heartbeat, and you can hear the crowd’s deafening cries. Your energy is drained as you give your everything, just to get ahead of your opponents. You are neck and neck with the Gim runner, as you then pull away from the others. Each school is screaming and encouraging their team, hoping to win. You can smell the tension as the runners make their way to the finish line. Time feels a hundred times slower as you pass the finishing line, wondering if you won or not … You could hear a pin drop in the silence as the presenter calculates the scores and steps forward to read the results. “The winner of the Prestige is … Paarl Boys’ High!” The whole school goes crazy and there is nothing to describe what the runner is feeling in that moment. Now that is definitely the best moment on the track! Kobus Wilken (9E) E k wa s n i e a l l e e n n i e … Die venster wasem toe terwyl Liezel na die immergroen bome duisende meter onder haar staar. Die sonsondergang kalmeer haar nie meer nie. Sy is angstig, maar hoekom? Sy wou nog altyd die Amasone gaan besoek en nou het sy uiteindelik die geleentheid. “Dit is baie mooi bome,” sê die klein seuntjie wat langs haar sit. Liezel knik net haar kop. Sy het byna vergeet van die agtjarige wat sy moes oppas tydens die vlug. Die kind tik op haar skouer en wys na ’n foto in sy boek. Dit is ’n foto van ’n rooi-oranje wildekat met lang, skerp snytande en wit oë. “Dit is ’n nuwe dier wat hier is; hier onder ons. Hy het groot oë wat gloei in die aand om diere te lok.” Liezel leun vorentoe om beter te sien. “Dit is net so groot soos ’n leeu! Die diere wat hulle hier teel, raak net al hoe groter en vreemder,” sê sy terwyl sy terugdraai na die venster. Dertig minute gaan verby sonder dat die kind iets sê. “Ons vlieg in ’n vuurpyl!” skree hy skielik terwyl hy na die agterste vlerk beduie waar ’n spontane brand ontstaan het. Binne sekondes draai al die passasiers na die linkerkantse vensters om na die bol vuur te kyk. Alarms gaan af en die vliegtuig begin terug aarde toe val. Liezel sien skaars hoe die donkergroen vlaktes opstyg. Sy haal diep asem en …

Und e r t h e s tarry s ky As I lay in the arms of my father, under the starry sky, all I could see was the beautiful slender figure of the Fae; all I could hear was the deafening, haunting melody of a harp being plucked skilfully and all I could smell was the bittersweet scent of blooming hibiscus. The Fae was calling me nearer, encouraging me to join him in his wonderful, beautiful yet dreadful realm. This was what I tried to tell my father as I was slipping away, into and out of consciousness. As I came closer, the figure looked threatening and grotesque, the plucking of the harp became dissonant and the flowers’ odour became rotten and foul. I screamed out in pain, my father clutching me tighter and whispering words of life reassuringly into my ear. There was a horrible cacophony of clashing sounds; the beeping of the monitor, the orders of the doctor, the plucking of the harp … The pain was soothed and the Fae disappeared. I had evaded him once again, as I would try to do for as long as possible, with my father by my side and the hope of a bright future burning in me like a stare in the night sky. Matthew Lamprecht (8F) Stilte. Sy word wakker van die alarms en rook wat haar kop net erger laat pyn. Rondom haar is net stukke metaal en bloed. Sy klim uit haar sitplek en struikel uit die meter-by meter-stukkie van die vliegtuig waarin drie lyke lê. Een ’n agtjarige seuntjie met ’n boek by sy voete. Dit is donker, maar die volmaan belig haar pad. Sy loop stadig na ’n rots wat langs ’n stukkie oop grond lê. Sy inspekteer haar lyf en besluit dat sy geen ernstige beserings of oop wonde het nie. Die rots se bokant is baie hard teen haar kop. Liezel staar na die bome rondom haar en haal diep asem. Sy slaap al byna toe sy ’n liggie tussen die digte bome sien. Skielik skyn nog ’n wit liggie agter ’n takkie, langs die vorige een. Daar verskyn net meer en meer ligte vanuit die immergroen woud. Liezel sit regop en begin die liggies tel: twee … drie … vier, ses, agt. “Ek is nie alleen nie,” fluister sy terwyl haar oë tussen die bosse rondsoek. Sy spring op en loop nader aan die takke. “Hallo, was julle ook passassiers?” Geen antwoord. “Hallo?” Steeds geen antwoord. Slegs twee lang, skerp snytande en twee gloeiende wit oë wat vanuit die donker immergroen bosse staar. James Roberts (11E)

BO I SHAA I 1 5 4 Y E AR S

9 9