Writer of the Week: Amos P

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“I’m so tired,” Amos mumbled to himself. When would he be going home? It was only 9:30pm and his eyes were heavy with exhaustion. The evening sun was glaring on his face, and he felt sluggish with fatigue. Birdsong echoed through the forest nearby the beach. And the smell of leftover sandwiches and salt from the sea fumed in his nostrils. He’d been on the beach for only an hour but it had felt like six. Sure, he loved New Year’s Eve, but sometimes he wished he could just fall asleep instead of staying up so late.

As the new year approached, his family gathered at the beach before heading back to the bach to celebrate. He approached the shoreline and took off his socks and shoes, spreading his toes among the warmth of the sand. The cool waves slowly lapped against his sand-sprinkled legs as he slowly breathed in and out. He took a moment to bathe in the coolness of the ocean and glanced around at his surroundings. Sitting near a large pile of sticks, his brother attempted to cobble together a small campfire. However, he wasn’t having much luck.

Half an hour later, Amos was in his beach shorts, racing towards the water, ready to embrace the cool plunge. As his feet leapt off the soggy sand, he dove through a wave. The deep blue ocean surrounded him while rough waves tossed him around like rags in a washing machine. Every wave hit hard, but was somehow soothing and refreshing. He called out to his siblings and cousins.

“You guys should come in!”

“Nah, we’re fine thanks,” they replied.

They were all hunched around the pathetic campfire, trying to light it as all the aunties and uncles laughed and talked amongst themselves.

Finally, they managed to get the flames roaring. Although the moon peeked through the darkness of the night, the soft, warm glow of the campfire provided comfort.

As Amos approached the embers, the charred smell of soft smores wafted up his nostrils. He plonked down next to his mother and asked for a marshmallow. Rummaging through the crinkled bag, he selected two plump marshmallows. One was pink and the other white. He then pierced them through a long brown stick and dangled them above the fire until they were a perfect golden brown. Sliding them through a pair of cookies, his stomach began to growl with restlessness. He slowly bit into the smore, pink and white marshmallow goop oozing down his cheeks. The bitter melted chocolate contrasted the pure sweetness of the marshmallows in a way beyond words could describe. Grasping his water bottle, he washed down the smore with a quick swig of water. Silently, so no one would notice, he slowly crept over to the marshmallow bag and cookies, to sneakily make another. A voice made him jump.
“Y’know you could just ask?” his mother said. Embarrassed, he quickly snagged some marshmallows and toasted them on the fire.

Amos was about to take another bite, when he heard a loud whistling noise, interrupted by a BANG! And then another. Glancing past the bushes and peering over the hill, he could see fireworks raining down like tongues of fire. The falling patterns from the fireworks shone against the shadowy sky like a piece of fine art. Although it was only 10:50pm, it was pleasant to see people getting into the New Year's spirit early. The clouds of bold bright colours blasted through the sky while people clapped and cheered. After a while, the fireworks finally faded into the shadowiness of the night.

Sighing gently, he took a moment to think about everything he’d accomplished in 2025. From distinctions, to competing in reading, music and photography competitions, he felt like he’d done well.

“Well, we should probably head home,” his mother suggested.

Amos plodded along the soft sand, dragging along his bag. Each step felt heavy and he was sure that he would crash as soon as midnight hit. When he piled into the car with his siblings, he gazed out the window, thoughts and memories speeding through his mind. Snapshots of his feats and accomplishments were frames in a movie, replaying in his mind as he drove back to the holiday house. The streetlights flickered past the car as they turned corners, like sparks from a fire, glowing with hope and determination. The moonlight peered through the trees as they slowed down, arriving in the driveway.

For the first time in a while he had finally found peace amongst the chaos of the first year of school.

Thanks for everything, 2025, he thought.