Story Contest 2017 #2 - Outstanding Stories (Junior) » Dear Diary, I'm Going To Die

“Dear Diary, I'm Going To Die” is one of the outstanding stories of the second biannual International Short Story Contest 2017 written by Fraser Elrick, Thailand.

Dear Diary, I'm Going To Die

Icy fingers gripped my arm in the darkness. Slowly, they heaved me further and further away from the chest. They were cold and stubby.

I was on a small island with sandy beaches and healthy wildlife. My ACDC t-shirt and blue denim jeans clung to my body. My freckles all over my face and neck were sweltering as I tried to think of a way to escape. My eyes were bulging out of their sockets in fear. I was scared for my life as I was trying to slither away from these monsters. Scars everywhere which were stinking like mad.

The reason why I was so scared of these monsters was because they shielded the treasure. On the note, it said that everyone caught by these things died. They were at least 7-foot-tall with bushy beards and their breath smelled of puke. As I was about to die, all of my memories of this trip crossed my mind. It was like a flash. It all happened like that.

I thought of how I found a note about this amazing quest to find the most valuable item in the world. I remembered my face when I was chosen to go. The scenes where crazy.

“Yes,” I screamed. “Get in there!”

I was as happy as I could be. I remember getting on the boat to leave my lovely hometown of Portsmouth. I remember I adored the boat, however it smelled of old fish and cabbage which I remember was very disgusting. Getting off the boat for the first time in eight months to find the treasure was definitely my favourite moment. My limbs were shuddering because the ocean was very wavy.

“OH, happy times!” I sobbed.

That is all you needed to catch up on. Now I’m here being dragged to my horrible death. Momentarily, I felt like there was no hope. There was nothing I could do to stop this.

“After all I had been through this was how I was going to die!” I bellowed at the top of my lungs. But out of the mist, a dark hooded figure came and beat the living daylights out of the horrifying monsters that were dragging me.

Kicks, punches, elbows, knees. He had it all. It was like watching WWE! However, the weird thing is, he was able to pick one of the monsters up on his shoulders but had barely any showing muscle. He had no weapons, no help, no traps. He did it all by himself.

“In order to survive,” he told me “you must always have company.”

Now I’m back home. In the safety of my bed. Mum now feels super bad for me and so she will do practically anything to cheer me up. Dad thinks I should man up and act like a real 14-year-old boy instead of crying in order to get anything I want. I solemnly swear to never go on an expedition without my family again, unless the dark hooded figure was a member of my family or a friend. I never heard from him ever again.