The Girl with the Red Balloon

The girl with the red balloon wandered warily along the drab concrete path, her eyes scanning the crowded street for her mother. Sweat laced her tightly clenched left hand, which held firmly to the string of a red balloon which floated obediently behind her. Her view was obstructed by towering adults, who rambled past her, sparing but a passing glance to the lost child. She reached out timidly to a stranger strolling through the mass and grabbed the base of their rough overcoat with her spare hand. “What?” the startled woman barked coarsely, bending over like a vulture to peer at the child. “I…I lost muu...mmummy” the young girl nervously responded shying from eye contact. “Well, aye can’t help ya. I gotta get ta work hunn.” replied the woman harshly, straightening her arched back as she twisted around and continued her meaningless march. The young girl watched the woman tramp away before turning and again searching for her mother. She ambled further down the pavement brushing past the flow of indifferent adults, none of whom looked familiar.

Distress moulded its way onto the young child’s face as the oppressive grey clouds knotted together overhead. Drops of rain descended from above, and for a few seconds the crowd stopped and inquisitively turned their head skywards. The rain quickened, and as the realisation dawned upon the adults they burst into a unified rush towards shelter. The delicate girl was shoved aside and then knocked back by the sudden urgency, her red balloon bouncing playfully off hats and umbrellas. The child instinctively scrambled slowly to the window of a shopfront where she knelt down, sheltered from the shower. Despairingly she bowed her head and wrapped her arms around her knees, still clutching the elevated string. Her red balloon settled comfortably against the overhang of the shop.

It was now that she was still that she realised how cold she was, and hungry too. The Sun had abandoned her, and one by one the street lights flickered on, preparing for the oncoming onslaught of darkness. The street lights lit the damp road an eerie yellow, yet no moths ventured into alluring light for fear of the rain. A car hurried past, splashing through a puddle sending water airborne before it crashed undignified onto the sidewalk. The dejected clouds spat more water and the rain fell harder yet. The wind roared down the street, almost blowing the young girl over and sending her pale hair soaring. Fine sprays of rain were carried with the wind and lashed the child’s face. The gust made a daring attempt to steal her red balloon but the young child refused to lose and held on to it tightly with her small hands. The winter wind, rushing rain and descending darkness slowly sucked the heat from her feeble body. “Mummmyyy” she sobbed softly, her voice drowned by the collision of rain and the road. She craned her soft neck up with teary eyes, but many of the adults had disappeared in search of warmth and shelter, and none of the ones remaining were her mother.

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The truck driver blinked bloodshot eyes and slowed his lumbering beast at the intersection. The truck was bleeding red earth onto the road as the rain washed the dust and dirt from the long interstate trip off. The brakes squeaked painfully but halted the ancient rust ridden truck. He had been on the road for two days, and had collectively managed three hours sleep. He could feel it catching up to him, tempting him, lulling him into a deep and serene rest. Normally he would have stopped over and accepted the offer, but he was almost there. Almost there…
Green light. Blink. He pushed on the accelerator wearily and forced the truck along. His eyelids dragged themselves down and he released a deep yawn. Blink. He fought open his tired eyes and peered through the curtain of rain. Blink. His head drooped, resting his weather beaten forehead against the steering wheel. Blink. “Almost there” he muttered to his exhausted mind. Blink....................

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As the young girl squinted through the now torrential rain she caught a glimpse of her beloved mother on the opposite side of the street. She jumped up, hauling the red balloon faithfully behind her and ran across the road and through the hammering downpour to her. “MUMMY!” she cried with relief. Her mother turned around, sighed in relief and beamed gratefully back at her. As the rain poured off her black umbrella she threw an instinctive glance up the drenched street.
Then she frowned.


Then she let out a sickening scream.

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The truck driver awoke suddenly from his micro sleep, wrenching his head sharply from the steering wheel. His jaded gaze returned to the flooded road, and there, caught in his windscreen wipers, was a red balloon.