Written by: Suhaas G., 10A

Sinead was incredibly late to her job. Again.
As she weaved through masses of people in the subway station, she was sure they would fire her this time around. She was on the tar road, dodging cares, trucks, teenagers on motorbikes, and other surprises New York City had in store for her.
One of those ‘surprises’ came in the form of a Yellow Sedan that wanted to kill her. As the rogue car came into her view, she briskly and cautiously stepped back, only to find her feet merely centimeters away from a gaping circle of an open manhole. In a trivial attempt to regain her balance, she slipped in an ungainly manner, falling into the dark void below.

Sinead woke up with a malicious headache. Her vision swam as she clutched her head to ease the pain. Looking up, she could see the open manhole, and to her dismay, a rusty iron ladder that only reached midway to her exit.
The other wall was not smooth concrete; it was in fact a rocky and petrous surface with many ledges and crevices. Her brother, Owen, was an adept mountaineer and would have loved to scale this wall. Unfortunately, Owen had gone missing two months before, and the police said that finding him would be a Sisyphean task.
Sinead took another look at the uneven rock face and wondered if she could follow the mountain-climbing lessons her brother gave her an year ago.

The glistening sun proliferated the perspiration on Sinead’s forehead. Owen was below propping her up onto the climbing wall.
     “Owen”, she said, her voice tiny, “I’m scared”.
     In a calm and intimate voice, he said, “Don’t worry, I’m here. Just look for the nearest step and you will be fine. And remember: don’t look down.”

Owen’s voice resonated in Sinead’s ears, “Don’t look down.” She took a deep breath and put her foot on the nearest foot hold; it slipped. Owen could have done this in superluminal speed, but she would just have to take her time. She was sure she would have been given the sack anyways. After countless attempts and what seemed like an eternity, she was at the top, face to face with the river rapids’ avatar of sewer water. The odor was heavy and incessant. Scrunching her nose, she started to reminiscence Owen’s lesson.

The prismatic mist of the roaring Hudson River sprayed onto Sinead’s awestruck face.
     Owen grinned,” We are going to cross this now.”
     Sinead stood her ground, eminently bewildered. “What?” she managed to croak out.
     “Watch!” he said. Sinead watched in amazement as Owen gracefully made a swift jump onto a rock, and then to the other side.
     “Now you try!” he yelled from the opposite bank.

Sinead had tried all right, and now she silently thanked herself for remembering to wear a life-jacket. She shuddered at the thought, and shifted her attention to the obstacle in front of her.
Sighing, she mustered up some courage and momentum, and broke into a sprint. She jumped a bit too late and clumsily stumbled on the dusty floor of the other side, narrowly missing the whitewater, better termed: ‘brown-water’, rapids. The powerful musk of sewage was still prominent in the murky air.
Sinead turned a blind eye to the stench, when she saw daylight up ahead. Fatigued and tired, she decided take on a slow jog. Her vision swam yet again, the claustrophobic stuffiness getting to her brain.
An iron door, gaping wide open came into view. Behind it was another ladder: distinctively iron but not rusty, this time polished and shiny. Finally!
As she moved forward, a man spoke in a coarse voice, “Sinead?”
She turned in the direction of the man. He was distraught and sick, his hair matted with blood. His eyes weary, but now filled with hope.
Sinead blinked a tear. In disbelief, she ran forward and hugged the older man. She was not sure if she was lost in reverie or the Fates believed in serendipity, but all she knew was that she had found her lost brother, Owen.

Author Details:
    • I’m 15 and I’m from 10A
    • I love     writing, reading books, and producing and playing music. I aspire to become a graphic designer (and freelance in music production).
    • This story shows how perseverance can urge you on. Obviously this situation in question is very unrealistic and coincidental, but that’s the message I wanted to pass on. My dad (and thousands of ancient philosophers) always says, “Where there is a will, there is a way”. I remember those words whenever I’m stressed, the same way Sinead remembers her brother Owen’s advice when she’s presented with a seemingly impossible obstacle.