Okay, I have tried really hard to write this again and again to make sure that this sounds as amazing as possible as this is my one chance to get into university. Tell me honestly what you think!!!
Everybody had forgotten about this box that had stood unnoticed and unopened in the deserted cupboard beneath the stairs, even me. The smell of wood lingered as I pulled it towards me and gazed down at the eight hearts scratched into the surface of the lid.
The box had remained here for eight years but now, on my eighteenth birthday it seemed an appropriate and poetic moment to discover the secrets it held given that it had been a present from my Mum and Dad.
Mum had brought me a trinket box shortly before she and Dad had disappeared and I had opened it this morning, which helped in remembering the box beneath the stairs.
Anxiety was twirling clumsily in my stomach, like a great blundering elephant on ice but I chose to ignore that as I lifted my hands and brushed away the dust from the box. I placed my hands on the lid, as though holding it might reveal what this box held.
Sighing in exasperation, I forced my fingers to slide downwards. I squeezed my eyes shut tight and opened the lid.
The distinct smell of old books wafted through the air and I curiously opened one eye.
A tiny note lay at the bottom, folded over repeatedly so that it fit snugly. My heart hammered far too loudly, giving away my fear as I picked up the note and unfolded it with resistance.
My eyes focused onto a picture firstly, which was stapled to the top left of the A4 paper. It was a picture of Mum and Dad in Australia; my parent’s eighth favourite place in the world.
On the bottom right of the photo was a date:
10/07/12
The photo was taken just over three months after my parents had gone missing. I scanned the note cautiously and found an address written below the picture.
10 Beacon Hill
Sydney
Australia
NSW 2100
We’re finally at our eighth favourite place. Hope to see you soon.
A small gasp of surprise slipped past my lips and my free hand pressed against the cool tiles for support.
I wasn’t stupid. I knew what this meant, despite how much I had once believed there had been no hope at all.
Mum and Dad were alive.
Well, what did you all think honestly?
Everybody had forgotten about this box that had stood unnoticed and unopened in the deserted cupboard beneath the stairs, even me. The smell of wood lingered as I pulled it towards me and gazed down at the eight hearts scratched into the surface of the lid.
The box had remained here for eight years but now, on my eighteenth birthday it seemed an appropriate and poetic moment to discover the secrets it held given that it had been a present from my Mum and Dad.
Mum had brought me a trinket box shortly before she and Dad had disappeared and I had opened it this morning, which helped in remembering the box beneath the stairs.
Anxiety was twirling clumsily in my stomach, like a great blundering elephant on ice but I chose to ignore that as I lifted my hands and brushed away the dust from the box. I placed my hands on the lid, as though holding it might reveal what this box held.
Sighing in exasperation, I forced my fingers to slide downwards. I squeezed my eyes shut tight and opened the lid.
The distinct smell of old books wafted through the air and I curiously opened one eye.
A tiny note lay at the bottom, folded over repeatedly so that it fit snugly. My heart hammered far too loudly, giving away my fear as I picked up the note and unfolded it with resistance.
My eyes focused onto a picture firstly, which was stapled to the top left of the A4 paper. It was a picture of Mum and Dad in Australia; my parent’s eighth favourite place in the world.
On the bottom right of the photo was a date:
10/07/12
The photo was taken just over three months after my parents had gone missing. I scanned the note cautiously and found an address written below the picture.
10 Beacon Hill
Sydney
Australia
NSW 2100
We’re finally at our eighth favourite place. Hope to see you soon.
A small gasp of surprise slipped past my lips and my free hand pressed against the cool tiles for support.
I wasn’t stupid. I knew what this meant, despite how much I had once believed there had been no hope at all.
Mum and Dad were alive.
Well, what did you all think honestly?