Friday, 26 February 2016

Lucas Yu AA Write Up

The Escape
Name: Lucas Yu
Class: S1-01

Run…run…I told myself…
  Hi, my name is John.Not to sound too cocky ,but I’m nothing like you’ve seen before.I was made on purpose, by the most horrible scientists you could probably imagine.They created me as an experiment, where I ended up 98% human.The other two percent makes a very big difference.Let me tell you…
  I grew up in a science lab/prison called the School, in cages, like lab rats.It’s pretty amazing that I can think or speak at all.But I can—and so much more.
  There was also another School experiment that made it past infancy.Part human, part wolf—all predator.They’re buff, intelligent and hard to control.They look human, but they are capable of morphing into wolf-men, complete with fur, jaws and paws.The School uses them as guards, police men and executioners.To them, I am a moving target —prey smart enough to be a fun challenge.They want to rip my throat out and make sure the world never finds out about me...
                                                      John—Welcome to my nightmare.

  The funny thing about facing impending death is that it snaps everything into perspective.Take right now, for example.Run!Come on, run!You know you can do it! I gulped deep lungfuls of air.My brain was on hyperdrive; I was running for my life.My one aim was to run away.Nothing else was more important.
  My arms being scratched to strings by a bush I’d just run through? No biggie.
  My bare legs hitting every sharp rock, rough root, pointed stick? Not a problem.
  My lungs gasping for air? I could manage.
As long as I could put the most amount of space between the Erasers and me.
  Yeah, Erasers.Mutants:half-men,half-wolves,usually armed, always bloodthirsty.
Right now, they were after me.
  See?That snaps everything into context.I’d never been this far from the school before.
I was utterly lost.Still, my arms swung by my sides ,my feet crushed through the forest,my eyes scanned ahead anxiously into the half-light.I could outrun them.If only I could find a clearing with enough space for me to…
  Oh, no...The unearthly baying of bloodhounds on the scent wailed through the trees, and I felt sick.
  I could outrun men, but I could never outrun a big dog.
Dogs, dogs go away let me live for another day.
  They were getting closer.
Dim light filtered in through the forest in front of me— a clearing?Please…a clearing could save me.
  I burst through the trees, chest panting ,a thin sheen of cold perspiration on my skin.
  No—oh, no!
I skidded to a halt, arms waving, my feet backpedaling in the rocky dirt.
  It wasn’t a clearing.In front of me, was a sheer face of rock that dragged to an unseeable floor hundreds of feet below.
  In the woods, drooling bloodhounds and psycho Erasers with guns awaited me.The dogs were yelping excitedly—they’d found their prey: me.
  I looked over the deadly drop.There was no choice.
  You would have done the same thing.
I closed my eyes shut ,stretched out my arms…and let myself rocket down the edge of the cliff.
  The Erasers screamed angrily, the dogs barked maniacally, and then all I could hear was the sound of air whistling past me.
  It was so peaceful, for a second, I smiled.
Then, taking a deep breath, I unfurled my wings as hard and fast as I could.
  Yes, you heard me: wings.Four metres across, pale tan with white streaks and some freckly looking hazelnut spots they caught the air and I was suddenly pulled upwards ,as if a parachute had just opened.
  Wincing, I pushed downward with all my might, then pulled my wings up, then pushed downwards again.Oh my, I was flying—just like I had always dreamed.
  The cliff floor, draped in shadow, receded beneath me.
I laughed and surged upwards feeling the pull of my pectoral muscles, the air rushing through my secondary feathers, the breeze drying the perspiration on my face. I soared upwards, past the cliff edge, past the shocked hounds and the fuming Erasers. One of them, hairy-faced, fangs drooling, raised his gun.A red dot appeared on my torn pajamas.
  Not this day, you fool, I thought, veering sharply to the west the sun would be in his hate-crazed eyes.
  I just survived another day of my messed-up life.

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