Children’s Writing Competition

Style of Wight Children’s Writing competition winning story…

The Man Who Would Rule Nothing

By Tru Crossley-Brook, aged 17 (15 when she wrote this story) Illustration Jules Marriner

On the edge of a small town, in a small house, in a small room, a wrinkled King sat on his small worn throne in a shadowed corner. The walls he had built around himself were as cold and unyielding as his heart. The remains of briding rown wrapping paper laid scattered at his feet, the parcel having been left at the door that morning. On his lap sat a worn acoustic guitar. The brown wood had lost its shine, the strings rusted and stiff. The forgotten King scowled at the instrument he had once adored, his own eyes having also lost their youthful glow, his heartstrings now taut and ungiving. But the sight of it ignited the spark of something he had buried in his mind, something of a time long past. His fingers drifted over the strings in spite of himself. The melody drifted from them as easily as they had years ago. As the harmony began to shape itself, he opened his mouth and croakily sang along, images beginning to flicker in his head.

He chased after the echoes of the fleeting memories. As the weight of the years lifted from his shoulders, something softened in his heart with each word. All at once he was there all over again. A young man in the garden, entranced by the woman he had seen amongst the great star’s rays and green blooms, his arms open wide to her with nothing to lose. The honeyed sunlight embracing the trees, wrapping around her shoulders like a delicate shawl; a soft morning breeze combing her hair, carrying the aroma of the flowers she held. He had opened his mouth and sang when he saw her, for no words of the mortal world could capture what had unravelled in his chest in that moment, what had bloomed like the flora around them. In that moment she had become his world. His treasure. His everything. Yet where was she now?

The last whisper of the same melody died on his tongue, the tune fading as his frail fingers shook, throat too tight to continue. The room was no longer yellow bathed greens, returning to its cold stone grey. The polychromatic blossoms that had smelled so sweet, were replaced with the withering heaps of brown that sat by the curtained window, miserable in their cracking and chipped pots. The walls he had carefully built crumbled around him. Suddenly, the King was merely a man once more. It had only taken the mere memory of her for him to come undone. The man lowly bowed his head, and wept for all he had lost. For all he could have been.

About the author

Tru was born in West Yorkshire but moved to the Isle of Wight with her family when she was nine. “I’ve always loved reading and writing, even when it didn’t make much sense to those who tried reading my work,” explains Tru.

“I am currently in my first year at the Isle of Wight college, one of the youngest in my Animal Management course seeing as I’m an August child, working towards an extended diploma. To help with my course I am volunteering at the local cat rescue centre as well as helping out in the unit on site, where there is a wide range of animals I get to work with from Chinchillas to Chickens.

“I was inspired (to write this story) by the Broadway musical Hadestown, a spin on the Greek myth Orpheus and Eurydice. One of the songs tells the story of Hades and Persephone, and how they have drifted apart when compared to the love they shared when they first met. I wanted to capture the feelings and image that the music and lyrics painted but in my own spin of things.

“I am in the process of writing an online story based on a TV show I am currently obsessed with, putting a spin on it with my own themes and ideas added to the existing content.

“Other than creative writing, I enjoy other forms of artistry, such as drawing and music. I learnt to play the clarinet with private lessons when I was 10, and since then I have also become quite skilled at the piano on my own with input from my school music teacher.”