“Prisoner Escape!”
“PRISONER ESCAPE!” yelled one of the guards. I had broken free but was still running for my life! The
guards were gaining on me, forcing myself to push my body to the limits; my heart pounded like a furious
bull, everything went blurred and I felt as though my lungs were going to explode! Until finally, I had
reached a place I considered safe. Getting the shackles off was hard work but a rock seemed to do the trick
perfectly.
“Freeze!” said a guard yielding a gun. Without much time, I firmly slammed my foot down on an unbalanced
log forcing it to descend into the air whilst deflecting the bullet. I ran!
Running, I came across an old shed full of brass machines and metal components. I quickly barricaded the
door behind me. Turning around, two machines stood before me but neither of which was the one I
needed. “Time for some quick tweaks,” I said to myself, “good thing I used to work with mechanics!” In
only minutes of work I had created what just might have been my life preserver: a Wimshurst Machine!
Grabbing a cog I swiftly sawed through the balsa wood ceiling, creating a narrow hatch.
After ages of him banging on the door, I knew the guard would eventually break through it, meaning I had
to do something first! I lifted myself and the machine onto the roof in a hurry. After turning the handle (for
what seemed like hours) I attached my metal shackles to the machine and to the guard! Thousands of volts
of electricity shot through his body faster than a bullet from a gun, leaving him as dead as a doornail and
leaving me free, but not for long…
I ran away (aware that people would be looking for me) until coming to a split junction. One path would
take me back to prison and to my death, however, the other would lead me towards happiness and joy (or
so I thought). “Which to take?” I thought. I remembered that I had picked up a compass at the shed and
soon had equipped it. It pointed West leading me down the first path.
Walking for hours, I had come across some peculiar stuff: a broken Discman, a gross slice of pizza and a
kite. “I wonder if that could be useful?” I asked myself whilst picking up the kite. It was getting dark, damp,
sluggish and stormy but unable to stop, I carried on. Later that night I soon regretted that decision…
Charging towards me was a bulky, snarling, drooling dog! I speedily attached the brass compass to the kite,
as a conductor, threw it with all the might I could muster into the raging sky and courageously tied it to the
dog, leaving it shaking, howling and most of all, dead!
Seeing my friend in the distance, I soon realised that I was finally free, not just from prison but from my
horrendous past…
Zach Anderson
Age 11