Young Writers Society

Granted Wishes

Listen to the birds sing their angelic songs.

Listen to their beautifully colored wings as they flutter by.

Remember this moment as you fix your gaze on such creatures.

Those words were the spell to my wishes, to what I believed in. Unlike anything else, these wishes that were stuck in my complicated mind became reality. I looked out the kitchen window, whilst pouring myself a drink of fizzy lemon. Three kids played happily in the field next to our garden. Their happy laughs and their movement reminded me of my young youth. Though I am still young, those kids who were playing had no worries on their shoulders; nothing was to bother them until they became older. I grabbed my school stuff and ran out the door. Most of the time I was late for school. I didn’t think I was worth all that trouble if no one there liked you. Of course, I was always the one being left out. No one wanted to hang around with a black girl; somehow they were avoiding me. It was as if I was a piece of shit. I wasn’t of course, I knew that, but it was like there was somehow this feeling inside which made me think I was.

The bell rang as soon as my feet reached the entrance, and kids were running up into their first class to get registered. We were going on a small trip. That’s why I came early. I didn’t want to get completely left out, and I would get to miss the dreaded P.E. As soon as everyone was ready, we boarded the bus. It quickly filled up and by the time the teacher let me on the horrid bus, there were only a couple of lonely seats. I grabbed one quickly, so I wouldn’t have to sit next to someone. When the bus was full of screaming and shouting children, the driver left the school and headed down the motorway to the arena, which was our trip’s location. I looked out at the blur of trees and birds that swept past my eyes. The green tress would stand there looking modest and strong while the birds would use these beautiful, tall plants for a home. As I stared at the different birds and trees fly past me, one caught my eye. The bird’s elegant wings were shining in the sun’s rays. The strange magnificent colors on its feathers gave me a feeling, as if my stomach had been lifted up and set free. I gently whispered the magic words:

“Listen to the birds sing their angelic songs.

Listen to their beautifully colored wings as they flutter by,

Remember these moments as you set your eyes on such a moment.”

My stomach tied back up again and the bird disappeared. All that was left was a painful headache hammering into my forehead. “I wish this headache would leave me,” I moaned.

The pain vanished and this shock took me back. Kids from all around me stared and giggled at my reaction. I blushed and looked down at my legs. Nothing to me was going to work, it was just a coincidence. I glared at them. What if it was magic? A power that meant I could wish what ever I wanted? An urge entered my system. “I wish for all the people that hate me to die.” I whispered. I covered my mouth, hoping that it wouldn’t come true.

The bus stopped at a corner and turned. Then, a car swerved past at a tremendous speed and crashed into the bus. The sound as unbearable, and I covered my ears as the bus fell into the corner. Screams echoed throughout the bus. Cars skidded away from the falling bus and the horn from the careless driver carried on making that loud, deep sound. I realized that it wasn’t the driver that was careless. It was me. The bus’s side ripped apart and bricks from a now broken wall fell on top of the children.

The sound of the droning horn paled in comparison to the moans of the children. Some were left unhurt; others lay on their deathbeds. This sudden wish made my regret what I did. I needed to change the present; this good feeling I had had gone away, all that was left was guilt.

“SHE’S DEAD!” screamed someone near by. A tear fell down my face and I wished for it all to stop, I quickly glanced at the people unhurt. They must have liked me. A smile slithered on to my face as the world re-winded back to when the bus was turning the corner.

We arrived at the arena five minutes later. It was the Art Museum, where work from all over the world was plucked from its original location and put into a large area painted white from ceiling to floor. I quickly cast my mind back to when I wished for the worse to happen, and the people unhurt flashed in my mind. I got out the bus and ran to two girls who I remembered weren’t hurt at all.

“Can I hang around with you?” I asked.

They smiled and nodded. That day my wishes came true.