We’re delighted to publish the winning and runners-up entries from our 2022 short story competition for Irish teens, in association with Tertulia Books. This year our theme was “Belonging” and our guest judge was Claire Hennessy. We All Belong Somewhere by Kaila Patterson (age 14) was a runner-up in our junior category.
We All Belong Somewhere
We all belong, somewhere — my personal philosophy that would follow my footsteps. I clicked the door closed as a shimmer of sunlight brightened me. The backpack dragged down my shoulders, tugging me closer, to the core of the Earth. My heart pushed me forward.
The beaming, pulsing organ was beating from my chest, releasing a streak of shining red. Blood circulated, and I continued to move, to take one more step on my journey. If I wished to find where I belonged, I had to go.
The travel, lasted a few days. Then, I landed on the newfound grass. A fresh, blast of oak, filled my nose, with the sharp, stones of the concrete catching my fingers. Blurred laughter, of people who belonged. That sound, of belonging, but my heart did not belong there.
The second morning, I arrived somewhere new. With my coat fastened, and my bag stuffed, I uncovered a frosted layer, of sparkling white. A slice of iced, hostile air cut my cheek, as the crackle of wind invaded my eardrum. Some might have, but my heart did not belong there.
On the third, I entered a raving city. A girl, with freckles dotted over her and a fringe that joined the dots, crossed my path. Her chatter was buzzing, around the speckle of fizzing drink, on the tongue. My heart raised, and hopped – and, dropped to the depth of a pit, when the mention came, of someone else. Another will, but my heart did not belong to her.
Fourth night, the placid town found me. I spotted a man who guided me along a walk, through the sites of rainbow rows of housing. A deep, coffee scent, wandered from the shop, plastered with chipped posters. A bit of banter, bit of cheer – a huge stomp, on my heart, as he found himself, on another path. The way for him, but my heart did not belong to him.
Fifth, the warmth of a desert swallowed me. The wave of peppered, golden sand, with the tickle of life on the toes. A whistle of the rush, of distant exchanges. I crossed the dazzling, heights of pyramids, and my heart pumped. A far place, but my heart did not belong there.
Upon the sixth, I climbed the tallest mountain. My throat scraped a yell as I screamed to the tops of my lungs. A flashing shade of multicoloured light, a kaleidoscope from the heavens. The splattered muck dotting my hand. Closest to the sky, but my heart did not belong there.
Seventh, I danced through a street parade. The buzz of laughter, and the widest, of smiles. A spark of colour, whoosh of a flag, and cheer of people. There were roasted fried foods, and the sweetest scent of candyfloss. Full of glee, but my heart did not belong there.
On the eighth, I found the coast. A crunch of dust before my feet were engulfed by raging, swooshing waves. A fresh swallow of salted air, absorbed from the sea. A line of waves separating the peace of sky from the anger of water. Nature’s division, but my heart did not belong there.
The ninth sunrise, I reached a quiet, dim town. A whisper of night tapped my arm, as I strolled through empty, slow streets. Houses, disguised a tangerine glimmer. No noise to overpower the silence. A place without a soul to see, but my heart did not belong there.
Tenth, the hills of flowers absorbed me. A bunch of indigo petals, honeycomb flowers, or sage stems. The cheeping of young birds, soaring through sky to greet another morning. A tranquillity that was unknown to the city. Almost perfection, but my heart did not belong there.
On the eleventh, a stranger waved to me. To invite me to a home, of warmth from the soul. Built from brick, but steadied by a smile. The smooth warmth of homemade tea and a voice that could ramble, for hours. After time, my shoulders settled, but my heart did not belong there.
Upon the twelfth evening, I slipped inside a bar. The roar of laughter and trickling of full, frozen booze over my fingers. A crack of a dart, slicing a board, before a raise of commotion. Nothing was rowdier, but my heart did not belong there.
Day twelve, I hopped into a spare car. A low, jazz tune radiated from the radio as I melted against a leather seat. Other drivers swerved around me, pounding on their blaring horns. The rough smell of petrol, pushing to no destination. Endless places to go, but my heart did not belong there.
Thirteen, my travel led me to a pitch. The screams of proud supporters as a rounded bullet crossed the goal. A second, I forgot to breathe for, when a kick recharged the ball. Dripping sweat and pearl grins. Team spirit was never stronger, but my heart did not belong there.
When the fourteenth came, I wandered over country lanes. The brush of straw, floating grass, faded to a yellowing colour. A far-off groan of panting farmers or the animals they pursued. Tall, strict barns and lone people. Not similar to home, but my heart did not belong there.
My chest could never feel complete. I trudged home, my shoulders drooping to the ground. A tap – beat, beat – of my heart pushed me closer to the house. The place that I had begun. After spending a fortnight searching for a place, a person, a reason – where I belonged.
I reopened the door, swinging my bag to the floor. My heart urged me on, travelling up the creaking stairs, and to the bathroom. The dull, greyish tone of the room seemed too low to compare to the sights that I had seen. These places I had not belonged to.
Why had my heart led me so far? Those destinations, those people, those sights – they were not the unknown fill that I craved. No search could complete me, and perhaps I did not belong to anyone, to anywhere, to anything. I had found things, but not what I needed.
A glimmer caught my eye from the side. The glimpse of reflective glass. I turned to catch my face within the mirror. My heart was releasing a beam of crimson, pulling me closer to my own reflection. Then, the light stretched from my chest, over the pale, woeful room.
A squish seized my heart, as a sense of wholeness covered the space. The overwhelming burst of contentment turning those beats to doubles – triples, and quadruples. As I studied my face, through the glass, my chest was prepared to explode.
I had explored the world, encountered the people, and experienced these sights. Yet, my heart had never belonged. It had not expressed that whole, consuming feeling of belonging to something. Of knowing that I was where I needed to be.
In the end, I did not need to travel. Nor witness things unlike my own life. If I continued to spend weeks, months, or days searching for where I belonged, I would not have known, realised, where I was needed, that I belonged to myself, and my heart belonged to me.
We all belong, somewhere.
