The Cliffs
Global Classroom Creative Writing Anthology 2015
Gollum’s Cave
My Precious, we are safe.
We are unscathed.
We are home.
The bitter breeze haltingly soothed our neck, and as swift and soundless as it is, it scratched open the thin bubble of warmth that wrapped around us as the dreadful
iciness, as cold as death, leaked into our body. Yes, my Precious, we feels it: the unseen clawses that brazenly dismisses heat; nasty clawses that tenderly banishes the
vigorous air; infinitely engulfing lives as if a bottomless chasm… gollum, gollum, yes, it’s lifeless down here, deep down in the roots of the mountains. The slimy, slippery
serpent, with unnumbered turns of misfortunes, snaked down from the goblin tunnels that penetrated the mountains with its evil; its luminous eyes of sins always
preying, preying on poor Gollum — but darkness shields us…
Thick opaqueness blockades the beacons of a world that faded…a world that cursed us, precious, a world that chased us here — and we wept, and wept, until we got
here; we are home. It shields us, and it protects us from nasty, unwanted intruders and keeps us sound. Gollum, gollum…damp rockses with acute edges hang uniformly
on the ceiling of our circular, wombing labyrinth — the army that salutes our existence with it’s noxious teeths eager to be soaked in red; drips of sound occasionally drop
when these guards of our haven are too heavily burdened with black waters.
Oh Precious, don’t we love the disharmonized lullaby it plays for us? Gollum - gollum…we loves it!
What is that noise, Precious? That ecstatic splash of water blacker than our souls, that almost unperceivable motion shrouded beneath the thick blankets of our lake
— a fish stripped of senses! Gollum-gollum, they rarely pay their visitses; the shallow waters deprived of air are too mean, too nasty to allow friends touring in our
sanctuary… Our stomach twists of joy, and we clenches onto this rare motivation as we moves on our leaden footses ever so slowly across the rough, stinging ground of
agony, filled with sharp undigested teeths and white flashes of bones. We slowly merges into the swelling lattice of inky waves and moves steadily towards our oblivious
fish. Slowly, steadily; slower, steadier… be still Precious, cherish Gods’ treats before it flees for its life.
‘It’s an illustration of my story, The Cliff, which is about a girl who finds her best friend in a fantasy world.’
The coldness of the black waters illuminated the outlines of our islandses encrusted in the heart of the slippery serpent: ornamented with different shades of blackness,
the nurturing walls of stoneses echoes our excitement as it unravels its stationary dents of smirks. We feels it Precious, we feels the softness of their victorious laughs as
we approaches our oblivious prize. Piercing waters stabs at our body as we wages through hexed ripples dilated with anticipation as we comes close to it…
Illustration by Vidhi Patel, Year 8, Compass International School, Al Khor
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