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Secondary. Year 10 plus

Killer Moves

By Louis Duquemin, year 10+, Elizabeth College

All eyes darted towards him, eyes glued to him as though they were entranced. The young, scrawny man stumbled down the street with a confused expression. Children hid behind their parents, eyes peering from behind their bodies. The man looked serious, as though he was planning something. His tattered, scraggly jacket complemented his overgrown hair. He made his way to Transfusion, the town's most popular dance club, as he walked he left a stench in his wake.

The stench fell like chlorine gas on the trenches. “Sir... sir.” The man kept on walking, an arm clenched his jacket, preventing him from walking. “Sir please, stop.” The man stopped and turned around: “I’m doing something important please leave me alone.” He went to keep on walking when the man said, “Whatever is important to you looks as if it is something that you’re going to regret for the rest of your life. Please just rethink what you’re going to do.” The man walked away without hesitating, his mind set on his goal, he put his Walkman on and said, “I might as well kick it.”

He arrived at Transfusion, he sneaked in somehow not getting stopped by the bouncer and murmured to himself, “This is it, today I get a roof over my head.” He walked past a couple of tables and dropped something into some people's drinks, he thought to himself, might as well have one last dance to finish it. He got on stage and started to dance; all eyes turned to him, he was so out of position that everyone was watching him ... no one even realised people were dying.

Two years later he’s serving his life sentence and he lies to himself,“I regret nothing ...” He lays there in his cell, sad, doing nothing.

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