Highly commended

The Boy Who Touched The Sun

Naomi Miller
Year 10+ Grammar School

On the edge of the cliff, the wind in our hair, I turned to the boy next to me and said what I had wanted to say for a long time. "Icarus, you don't surprise or impress me. I can't love you. You're just... Icarus." He looked at me for a long time, emotions swirling through his head as he tried to understand. "If I impress you, Maia, you'd change your mind?" I nodded, unsure of what would follow. And I certainly didn't expect what happened next. He sprinted off the cliff, plummeting towards the frothing foaming jaws of the ocean, which jumped up to swallow him into its depths forever. I ran to the edge, screaming his name, searching for the boy I now knew I loved. But I was looking in the wrong place. Soaring above me on white feather wings and laughing at my foolishness was Icarus. "I told you I could impress you, aren't you glad you gave me another chance?" I was unsure as to whether I wanted to punch or kiss him. He flew higher and higher, his eyes fixed on the sun, and finally stretched out his fingertips to touch it, believing I would love him if he did. And my admiration changed to horror as I realised he was in danger. I began to shout to him. "Come down, Icarus, please, come down!" Now his wings were dripping, the molten wax glistening in the afternoon sun. "Please, Icarus, please. I love you." And he finally looked down. Suddenly he noticed and began flailing and panicking, twisting and screeching, silhouetted against the sun. He tried to fly back down to me, but it was too late. The dark shape of a boy fell to the sea, the boy who had touched the sun.

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