Nikita @ Saint Patricks School – Page 3 – I am a Year 8 learner at Saint Patrick's School in Auckland, NZ. I am in Room 8 and my teacher is Ms George.

It’s the next day, we’re on a boat at the moment, the Palapa, when I first saw it I thought there were two boats, maybe it was hiding behind the Palapa? Instead there was only one, I hoped that we weren’t all getting on that one boat, my mother and father stood there frozen, there’s no way that nearly (and I quote) “400!” people were getting on that boat! People were yelling, “I refuse to take my child on that boat!” a mother said. “It’s our only chance at surviving,” the father said. I heard the mother grumble. With the waves crashing, we reluctantly walked down the ramp leading to the beach. There was a ladder on the side that we climbed. Once we boarded the boat, I wanted to leave, I wanted to jump off and swim back to shore, like what is this? The boat is clearly unstable, people are arguing about nonsense, babies are crying, I just can’t bear it anymore! I wanted to close myself off from the world, I wanted to somehow shut everyone out.

I got over it eventually, what I can’t get over is my need to go to the bathroom! Wait what’s that over there? There’s a hole leading to the ocean!

…So I’m back, I saw a hole in the boat, let’s just say I don’t need to go anymore. I turned around to notice people panicking, I only did number one though! I don’t get it, I turned to my parents looking at me with a look of concern in their eyes, I then realised they weren’t looking at me, they were staring at something else behind me, I turned, there’s a crack in the boat. I was frozen, I was going to walk to my parents. “Don’t move, one of the other families said. I stood there dumbfounded, surely I can just walk to my parents without making it worse. I attempted to step forward, there was a creak, I saw people moving around, someone brought something to cover the crack. “Phew” as I sighed in relief, this made people realise that we need to be a bit more cautious. People started to make these weird shapes on the largest amount of space we had, they made two waves with an oval in the middle. “SOS,” one of the children said to me. “What’s that?” I asked. “It’s a distress signal that means Save Our Souls,” they said. “Oh ok thank you,” I said, they shrugged and just walked away.

It is night time, the children lay asleep while the parents stay up worried about the dangers put in the sea, everything was quiet. When I closed my eyes it felt as if no one else was here in this boat except my family and I, that’s when the storm came. We heard the rain drops on the top deck getting heavier, leaking. Water started to come from the ceiling, the sound of thunder rumbling in the sky, families huddled up together praying. The babies were crying. At this very moment I had to put my faith in Allah.

Diary Entry 1

Author By spsnikitay
Publication date October 21, 2022
Categories: Hanga | Create
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Dear Diary,

The night was hot , I’m sweating, my shirt was soaked, I have a headache. “This humidity is killing me”, I say in frustration. The moonlight shines on me through the window. I hear shuffling footsteps hurrying towards me, I quickly shut my eyes to pretend I’m sleeping. My door opens, the shuffling becomes louder, the floorboards in my rooms creak, I hear them bend down, they’re breathing heavily. “Abbas, Abbas!”, it was my mother, “Abbas, get up! I know you’re not sleeping” she says in frustration. I pretend to wake up, slowly opening my eyes, turning to my mother kneeling at my bedside. “We’re leaving” she whispers, “grab what you need, then meet me and your father at the front door.” I thought to myself, why are we leaving in the middle of the night, now I may sound disappointed, I’m not though! Although I may be a bit scared, I like to think of it as another adventure!
“I don’t know what’s happening” I thought to myself, the only good outcome of us leaving is that we’re leaving this unpleasantly hot place. I went through my cabinet looking for clothes and food to stuff in my bag. Once I had everything I needed, I bolted for the front door, “took you long enough, now c’mon!” my dad says before taking me and my mothers hand sprinting out the door.
I look back at my home, even though I was glad we left, leaving also makes me want to go back, the green door I always hated, the pathways with trees surrounding it, where I used to always play hide and seek with my friends and family. At that very moment, I wanted to rewind time, go to the past and come back, like back to the future or whatever that movie was called that the Taliban kids always bragged about watching with their friends and family. While I was busy daydreaming about the past, we were already there, people, murmuring, whispering to each other. In front of us stood a long rectangular vehicle, the bus that will take us to freedom?