The Chase. The crack of a twig was all the warning.

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Shanil Mehta   Yr 10   Foremarke

The Chase

  A glance at the sky told me that rain was not something the heavens were going to bless us with. The white hot sun had taken its toll on my body and I felt weak as my feet were burned by the sun baked, cracked ground.

  My family and I stood under the big, shaded area of a single, mammoth sized baobab tree. There was nothing in sight except for the tall, amber gold savannah grass and the various animals scattered over the landscape.

  My family had recently moved to Kenya in search of water as our previous home had been experiencing droughts. Arriving in Kenya, we realized that it was only slightly better.

  Night fell and I could feel my strength slipping away when suddenly, my instincts tingled. I could feel a predator roaming through the savannah. Quietly. Stealthily.

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  The crack of a twig was all the warning I needed. I shot out of the grass as fast as my legs could carry me, knowing in my heart there was no hope of outrunning this killer but I had to give it my best shot.

  Even as I ran, I could feel myself slowing down with every step I took. My breath was deep and ragged and I my dry throat burned from the lack of water. The silent assassin was almost upon me when suddenly, I changed direction. The much older predator had to slow ...

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