Hitching a Ride
by Sophie Andrews, age 15

Up ahead stretched a long and winding road, leading into the depths of a magnificent forest. the ind was circling ferociously, making the air colder than ever before. The sky loomed over the bland scenery and portrayed a somewhat grumpy look.

I kept going, despite all this. The ground was hard beneath my tired feet, and I couldn't keep my head up any longer, so I had to let it slowly droop towards the ground.

Suddenly a rush of air is behind me. A frightening roar which turns to a distant murmur as a monster of a vehicle swerves past me and then becomes an animated dot in the distance. I put my arm up into the air, but again I'm missed. Ignored. I lumber on. however, behind me is another of those monstrous vehicles, so I try my luck again, reaching my arm up in the hope that the driver will see me and stop as it rumbles by. But it's no use.

The air is now biting at my neck. I manoeuvre my head to see how much progress I've made. The forest is slightly nearer. Still some way to go though. I carry on, but I soon notice that my legs are bending precariously and I'm beginning to drag my feet wearily along the ground. By this time several more vehicles have driven past, overlooking me, as though I'm the last half-eaten cake that nobody wants.

Suddenly I jump. Somthing's just landed on my head. I glance upwards at the sky which ridicules me. Again I jump. I feel a drop on my nose, my arm, my head again. Before I know it, the Heavens have opened, and after just two minutes, I stand there soaked to the skin. A wet sheet in front of me conceals the forest. My mind is focused on the 'pitter patter, pitter patter.'

I compel myself to walk on, but it's hard, oh so hard. My legs aren't obeying my head, and my arms are like soggy cardboard. There's no point. I can feel myself shutting down automatically and all I can think of is how frozen I am and how wet I am. I finally give in.

I duck my head and contract my arms and legs, into my home. Welcoming ,freindly, warm and long-awaited home. I feel safe, in my own little world, secure. I close my eyes, as tiredness overwhelms me, and as I drift off, all that I'm aware of is the perpetuating 'pitter, patter, pitter, patter' spitting on my shell.