IADT Young Writers Competition

IADT invited Transition Year students attending school in the Dun Laoghaire Rathdown area to respond creatively to the idea of HOPE in a short, original piece of writing.
A big congratulations to Finn Wallace (TY) who was announced today as one of the winning entries. Finn will receive a €100 One for all Voucher and his class will be hosted on a tour of the National Film School followed by lunch at IADT when public health guidelines allow.

You can read Finn's submission below. Titled "Burning Hope".

Burning Hope

I raced along that dusty path, the silent, solemn atmosphere thickening the air, just as black billowing clouds of smoke and ash seemed to do ahead. It was only supposed to be a routine trip, Hana would visit Tokyo and sell the early harvests. I had never thought it would turn out like this.

​The panicked scurrying of the city seemed to grow louder and louder as I ran, my vision becoming more clouded. Jets of fire somehow peeking through the smog filled sky and the water, it was the closest thing I knew to a hell on earth. Still, I ran, never stopping, even as my entire body pained, my head pounding, the heat intensifying.

Thoughts raced through my mind, I couldn’t let my sister die, she would be alone, mixed through all the chaos, she needed me. ‘No!’ I would find her, she’d be ok, it’s all going to be ok.

I neared the city, now seeing the destruction that the earthquake had caused. The sprawling urban metropolis that had seemed so grand was levelled to the ground. Buildings reduced to rubble and soot, the inferno still raging in some parts. Bodies littered the streets.

I held on to the belief that my sister was ok because it was all that kept me going. I rushed through the ruins, trying to identify what was where and where was what. I approached what I thought to be the district she was staying in, hoping I’d find relief. Sweat built up on my brow and I felt an uneasy feeling in my stomach.

​Finally, I reached the remains of the small family homestead who had housed us every year since I was just a child. It too was gone. I searched through the debris, hoping for some sign of identification, something to ease the storm of emotions raging through my heart. There was nothing. The few human remains I could find were beyond recognition. I didn’t want to believe any of them were Hana, then I saw it.

A small, tattered piece of cloth, bearing our family insignia. It couldn’t be like this, it was all so sudden, she could still be at one of the nearby shelters. I fruitlessly tried to reason with myself but inside I knew, I picked up the cloth, clutched it to my chest, and fell to my knees, the tarmac beneath me faintly warm.
​
Finn Wallace