In Year 9, students were instructed to write an imaginative short story for young adults. This year, the theme was ‘celebration’. Josiah Wilkens took it in a very interesting direction with one of the oddest perspectives I’ve ever come across. Here is his story. – Miss Shamila Rozario
A Soap Opera by Josiah Wilkens
Once there was a brick. Its name was #47. One day, it fell in love with a brick named #101.
‘Hey, you’re looking redder than Mars!’ said #47.
‘Aww shucks. Wanna go out?’ That’s how #47 and #101 met. Now they were brickfriends. But not all was content in the land. Alas, brick #22 had a serious crush on #47, while ignoring the fact that brick #73 was openly in love with it. There had been much drama between the four. Little did they know that romance would be the least of their worries in the near future.
Now, there was a mysterious creature in the land. It had four limbs and a round extension on the top of a wide cylinder body. It had been lurking around for about a month, carrying strange instruments from one place to another. Brick #58 loved to spy on other creatures, and saw a paper owned by the creature. ‘Its occupation, that’s Latin for name, is B-U-I-L-D-E-R.’ #58 announced. ‘With that spelling, we can estimate the pronunciation as Buldar.’
Everyone shouted, ‘All hail the great and powerful Buldar!’
‘Can you wrap this up?’ Suggested #25, who was being stood on like a stage for #58.
‘Almost done. Now, I saw another thing on the paper. It said that “Buldang Projek,” (which is Italian for ‘doomsday’), is going to happen on Tuesday. Now I don’t know when the br*ck Tuesday is, but our existence is about to change forever.’ Gasps all around.
Three days later, Buldar came to the pile and brought a bucket. #58 saw it and its eyes would’ve widened if it had any. ‘It’s the dreaded C-E-M-E-N-T!’ (pronounced sment).
‘We will be stuck in one place for eternity!’ Shouted #22.
‘The sment will be the end of us all!’ Yelled #73. #47 and #101 simply embraced – or as close to that as bricks can do – as they were picked up and placed high on top of an already glued wall of bricks. First #101, then #47 placed half on top of #101 and half on top of another brick. #22 appeared next to #47.
‘‘Sup, clay Angel?’ #22 said. #47 was not happy.
‘You disgust me. #101, I’m so sorry that we’re not next to each other… 101?’
#101 was no longer redder than Mars, but now a grayish pink.
‘What’s wrong #101?’ Asked #22. #22 and #101 were best friends, but no one knew where #101 had come from. #101 began its story.
‘I am not who you think I am.’ If bricks could cry, #101 would’ve started tearing up.
‘I came from a bathroom long ago. Many of Buldar’s kind lingered in my land and I was good friends with the tiles of my room. I was a bar of soap, and I was happy. I played slip from the grip with my siblings whenever one of Buldar’s kind picked one of us up – Hoomans, they called themselves. One day, it was my turn for slip from the grip. Once I got free, I fell and landed in such a way that I-I slid and went behind the toilet, and the hooman ran towards another hooman’s call, not even giving me a second thought. Some time later, I heard my sibling shout help! Followed by another. My family was being taken somewhere without me and there was nothing I could do to stop it.
‘Two years later, and neither my siblings, the hoomans, or even my friend toothbrush ever came back. However, for the whole week, there had been loud hums, and creeks, and occasionally, deafening cracks and crumbles. This particular day had been a lot worse than the rest of the week. And-and I heard a loud hum get increasingly louder, and-‘ #101 burst into tears.
‘Hey, it’s OK, hey- keep it together.’ #47 chimed in soothingly. ‘What happened next?’
#101 sniffled, then began once more: ‘I found out what the cracks and crumbles were when I experienced one in the room I was in. There was a massive crack as the walls caved in and the toilet shattered before my very soapsuds. In the toilet’s place was three or four bricks, one of which told me to save myself, before cracking in half.
‘I left as fast as I could, barely having time to look back at the cause of the destruction – large yellow thing with a pole sticking out, attached to a ball and chain. On the inside of the thing was Buldar himself. Afterwards, I found a hooman relic called an ipone and ordered a brick costume size XXXXXXXS on bBay and that’s how I became a brick.’
#47 was confused why that was a problem. Yeah, it was a little mad that its brickfriend had lied to it all of this time, but it loved #101 no matter what object it was. But realisation came when it saw that #101 started collapsing beneath both it and #22. #101 acted fast and started ordering the bricks that were still in the pile to form a staircase structure, which brick #73 then climbed.
‘Swap places with me #73!’ commanded #101.
‘I can’t! You’ll die!’
‘Nothing can stop that now.’
#101 carefully swapped places with #73 and, standing on the brick staircase, turned towards #47. With one final breath, #101 croaked ‘I love you #47,’ and plummeted off of the staircase towards the ground, splattering on impact.
‘NOOOO!’ screamed #47 in agony as it wiggled itself free from the wet sment and started edging itself out of the wall.
‘Don’t jump #47!’ You’ll only make it worse.’ Said #22, but there was no stopping #47. It was pained with grief and had lost the will to live. It popped out of the wall and went after #101. The wind rushed past the troubled brick’s edges as it thought about its deceased love. Things went blurry for #47 when it hit the ground. It was still alive, (or not, it was just a brick) but severely injured. It heard muffled bellows of Buldar saying ‘OH NO. A BRICK FELL OUT.’ #47 felt itself being picked up and felt cold, wet sment coat its cracks. Then it was placed back into its place in the wall. During the absence of #47, #73, and #22 had been flirting and now they were dating.
For the rest of their days, #22 and #73 lived as a happy couple and #47 became good friends with its neighbouring bricks but never moved on from its lost love. The Buldang Projek (which turned out to be Italian for community of bricks) lived to be a happy old house in a small neighbourhood.
