Our class had to enter a story in a competition called beyond the story. The story had to be about a historic event in New Zealand. I wrote mine about the Aramoana Massacre
Aramoana Massacre: Through Helen Dickson’s Eyes
The sweet and wonderful chirping from the friendly birds outside started my day.
I was hanging out the washing out when my son Jimmy and his little dog Patch came over to help me with some jobs. Later that afternoon a few close, loud bangs went off but Jimmy and I thought it was just some fireworks but know it is a little too early for that so carry on with our jobs. We noticed that Patch had disappeared but just thought he had gone down to the valley for a wander so Jimmy went and looked for him.
After a little while, Jimmy had not returned. I heard some more bangs so ignored what my doctors said a few weeks ago after I got my hip replaced and gabbed my crutches and walked out to the road. I started following the road until it split two ways. I waited until a few more bangs so I would know what way to go. A car raced out from one road and a young man yelled out the window, “There's a mad man with a gun, get out of the way!” After they sped off into the distance a man came out to see what was happening and pointed out a fire upon the hill. He started walking towards it so I followed not knowing what we were walking into.
Loud popping sounds whizzed past us and straight away we realized that someone was shooting at us. The man, who I still didn’t know the name of, stood between me and the shooter and tried to lead me to a safe area when he got shot in the bottom. We both fell over but I managed to land on the grass behind a old phone box that no longer worked. “Ahhhhhhh!” he moaned with pain.
“Are you alright?” I asked cautionary
“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” he answered bravely.
I had dropped my crutches in the middle of the road but did not want to risk crawling back out there in sight of the shooter and the man next to me was in too much pain.
I decided that I had to ring the ambulance and the police so I told the injured man that I was going to try get back to my house. It was slow, long and painful as I tried to crawl into a little ditch next to the road. Once I got in there I followed it along, little bit by little bit I got closer to my house. I stopped for a rest when I heard some more loud gun shots. Finally, I came to the fence outside my house. Using the fence I managed to climb onto my feet and using obstacles around my house I managed to get the my door.
Once inside, I headed straight for the phone and dialed 111. I told them everything that had happened and that a man had been shot. I hung up and started heading back to the injured man to make sure he was alright. I got back to the ditch and couldn’t walk anymore so I had to crawl again back to the phone box and told the injured man that the ambulance and police were coming. We talked for a little bit about our family and I started getting scared about Jimmy not coming back. I decided to go back and try ring them again and did the exact same thing to get back to my house. This time when I rang they told me to lock all the doors and windows and stay in a warm safe place, I argued not wanting to leave him on the road but new it was too dangerous. I grappled a duvet from my bedroom and lied down in the kitchen by the phone and away from sight from any windows. Seconds turned to minutes and minutes turned to hours. I could hear a sound outside and kept and quiet as a mouse lied there hoping it was not the mad shooter. The sound seemed to quiet down I heard scratching at the door and slowly opened it to find patch with blood all over his legs. I gripped him tight, close shooting sounds cracked around me, I hopped this minute would not be my last. The morning came and everything was quit. The police came and told me that the madman was shoot.
His name was David Gray.
.JPG)
