September 17, 2012
I jump out of the car. My feet sink into the warm golden sand and the suns warm rays beats upon my face. It feels so good to finally arrive and it feels so relaxing to get out of the car after the long drive. I hear dad say, ‘Hey Brook, come and help us set up.’ I slowly make my way over to the tree line on the edge of the broad sandy beach. We all set up the tents ready for our three day camp before we all go back to school. Hamish, my best friend and I are ready for a thrilling and exhilarating occasion. From my perspective the best thing about this place is that there is a great view of ocean right next to it and a huge deep scrub on the opposite side. At night the sound of the sea is great, the roaring waves that reach out trying to grab you can be heard.
I am woken by the crashing waves and the sound of seagulls chatting to each other. I hear the rough sizzling sound; I’m guessing and hoping its bacon. My tummy is making cruel, harsh, brutal sounds and that cooking is not helping one bit. After my crispy bacon and my yummy eggs I decide to go for a walk out into the scrub. I walk for a while not seeing anything interesting, certainly nothing is catching my eye. One thing that come into sight and makes me curious is a strange footprint with a very distinctive shape. I sit there examining it for a few minutes. It’s a large distinguished unexpected form in the ground. It has no toes and is a cloverleaf foot shape except twenty times bigger. This unusual shape is one that I’ve never seen before and I feel uncomfortable and I no longer feel like walking. I turn back and head towards the campsite. I get back and I can’t see anyone. I hear yelling and screaming in the distance and I realise that they are in the deep blue having a swim, having a pleasurable and relaxing time. Everyone gradually and at a snail’s pace makes their way back to the tent. Subsequently we all realise that something is not right. The fires out, we’re perplexed. It had plenty of wood, in fact it still does. It’s like someone has come and dumped a bucket of water on it. I’m bewildered.
With inquisitiveness filled up in everyone, we all just continued on with our afternoon. That night we all sat around the campfire discussing the episode. The next morning I woke up to the same sounds of the birds and the crashing waves. That morning I kept thinking about the fire, accept I think we all just though it was natural so we half forgot about it. I go for a wander down along the beach still thinking about the fire, but I soon give up and head back towards the camp.
I’m really confused now. When I got back from my walk everyone was in silence and not talking and then I discovered what was wrong. Half of our food was gone, disappeared. It has to be some sort of beast, I thought to myself as I scavenged through what was left of the food. Later that night we all started to talk about the incident once again. I think we are all glad we’re leaving tomorrow; well at least I know I am, before the devil gets all of us. I sit there staring at the fire where the red-hot flames leap into the air. I look into the coals then realizing the fire needs a feed like all of us and so I get up and go for a walk to collect some sticks.
I get a fair way out then I start to feel a sense that something is close. It feels as though the trees have stoped blowing, the breeze has dropped and all the night time sounds of grass hopers the other insects and bugs go quiet. I start to feel scared because I am something is following me, a creature, a demon filled to the brim with evil. I’m starting to sweat, I’m horrified, and I feel the blow of its revolting smelly breath on the back of my neck. I can also feel the vibration of its footsteps over mine. I’m starting to get taste of panic in my mouth and a gut wrenching feeling in my stomach. The fear in my body makes me stop. It makes me look around. I shine the torch down the scrubby track I had just been on, but nothing. Adrenaline makes me continue on my mission to collect sticks. I keep looking around, desperate to sight the devil. I’m sure I’m not imaging it. There’s too much fear in me to be imagining it. I feel as though there is a monstrous shadow over me.
I give up. I’m too scared. I run towards the campsite. I run fast. I run really fast. I run flat out. I run faster than I ever have before. I still know it’s following me because I can hear the sticks breaking underneath its feet. I break into the campsite clearing, no one. Not even the fire is alight. I rush into the tent looking for life. Nothing. I look through the wall of the tent and in the moonlight I see what’s been chasing me.