My Short Story - Outback

Jordan Goldstein
Outback

     Nothing in life has prepared me for this, and I have been in some tight situations. All my life I have been wanted, all my life I have been running, hiding, until I got caught. England is a powerful nation and one person has no chance at running, I know that now. I thought it would be fine, my crimes were not serious, so jail would be short timed. That’s when I found that in a great nation, with not many place; for a criminals such as my- self, they send you someplace else, a place no man would go.
     I was beaten and put on a ship. This huge ship made me realize why Britain was unrivaled in land and exploration. Even after many miles out on the sea they told us little of our new home. I was not alone; some of the most terrible men in England were here. Soldiers everywhere, it was not until many weeks at sea did I find the name of the cursed land I would call home. It was a hardly explored island known as Australia. This name was new to me, I had never heard of this Australia. Miles out to sea England was nowhere in sight. The conditions of the ship were tough and staying in one place for more than a day was new to me. The soldiers on board did not like to reveal any information. I expected some did not know and others were just stubborn, so not much information was revealed. The other prisoners did not act worried of this unknown place. I knew some must have been, but these outlaws had a face of stone, stone that could not be penetrated. Little did I know how long this trip would last, and little did I know when I got there I would want to go back.
     The Island was huge, if it was one. It would be a perfect lie to tell making the prisoners think there was no escape. We were loaded into smaller boats to land, all of which were armed with soldiers, the trip was short. The land was dry, lifeless nothing in sight. At this time, I was hopeful the land was huge. I would be alone away from the others, that was best. Although there is strength in numbers, you must trust them; which I was not about to do with criminals from England. As we boarded the land, we were set free with nothing, the soldiers seemed to hope we would die. I immediately took off, leaving the others by the sea. Dry, that is how you would describe it, hours of walking and there is no water, no animals, no life. It was not until night that I found life; queer looking moles and wolf like dogs stalk the land. Over the time of a week I would be attacked over twelve times buy these dog like creatures. And after weeks of wandering, weeks of barely surviving endless walking and endless heat, I made a great mistake. I found the magnificent structure. It was a giant thing of stone just sticking out of the flat dry wasteland. The stone provided excellent shade from the sun, but I did not know the danger of the cliffs, it was not until I had fallen and been crushed by a seemingly grounded stone that I understood the danger. The Mountain like stone went almost straight up, with some flat overhanging sides, which I took as my goal. As I was climbing the colossal stone, I fell. It had not been long since my fall when the natives came.
     The natives of the Island, which I soon learned were peaceful and giving, welcomed me. Dark skinned with white tattoos all over their face and body, they immediately helped me escape my rocky prison. I was lucky that they found me; I could not gone on alone. It was pure luck they heard me. After releasing me from the stone the hinted to me to follow, I did so not knowing what would happen if I did not. It was at this time, I thought about my life before my capture. Being a thief in England is dangerous and I thought anywhere would be better. I always thought of jumping a boat and leaving Britain but it just never happened. How Ironic, now I am here, wishing to go back? As the say the “grass is always greener,” but that is not the case, for the grass here is brown and dead, any place would be better.
     After Hours of walking with the Natives that saved me I finally began to understand one or two of their phrases. Although, I was years away from learning their language, I could understand them. I heard about there trails, which is like are roads. I was not until I found their village or city that, I would truly understand their ways. They trusted me immediately, which of course, I foolishly took advantage of. I did not know it but befriending these people was the only way to survive.
     One night the leader of this village, in which I had been staying for days now, called me to his place. He lived in the caves, around a giant plateau like stone, over three times as big as the other structures. The village was built around the caves where mighty fires blazed at night. The houses were made of the soil and mud. They were tiny and insignificant. Unlike the houses, the caves were legendary and amazing. As the chieftain lead me through the tunnels, in the dead of night I felt the mood of this place dark and grim. Walking down endless tunnels full of paintings, of creatures that during my time in this land I have only seen here. They were painted on to the wall, pictures of animals like the dogs that hunted me in the desert. I was lead into a room, a room with no paintings on the wall, a room with no fire but a tiny hole in the ceiling letting in the moonlight. It was then I saw the painting of the beast.
     This was the only picture in the room, and the largest in the caves or so the chieftain said. When I asked what it was he began talking in his foren language, talking so fast I could not understand. The creature looked like a serpent, I looked like a giant salamander, a small animal I knew of in England, but compared to the chief standing beside it, it was huge. It was then the chief started mumbling, or chanting, this was the first time I was glad I could not understand him. Even though I did not understand, the expressions and mood of the conversation scared me. I was no lie these people feared this creature. The leader quieted his chants, but the creature stayed on the wall, it was only a painting. I ran, out of the caves, in to the village I did not think I could stay here. People tried to talk; I was in no mood to. Some I pushed to the ground, others I hit, all in an attempt to leave. At top speed I gathered all I needed, I was depriving this tribe of resources, but I did not care. After all, they are just unintelligent beings, right? After my loot was stored, I escaped the village, and ran into the desert, in the dead of night. It was not long before it came, stalking me every step of the way
     At first I did not notice the beast, I was a thief and my senses were sharp, but this thing was unimaginably silent. I followed me until I had no place to go, I was up against a cliff, that is when I saw the serpent, the beast, the colossal salamander. As high as the cliff that blocked my exist. The huge figure blended into the dark sky, all I could see were his bright yellow eyes, but I knew I was the creature from the painting. Its eyes were cold, I did not make a sound, but It spoke to me. It got me thinking, and facing my doom, I thought about my life. A thief at a young age was that worth it, did I gain anything? Was it worth running every day, never trusting anyone? I thought about my actions and how I was caught. I thought about my trip here. I realized what I had done. I knew why the beast was here, and once again it said nothing and stared. What had I done to those poor people, hurting them, stealing from them! I could not go back I realize I had been given second chances my whole life. What a way for a thief to die. The creature approached, and for once I did not run.