Short Story: Just Give Me a Chance


Blackness swallowed me up as I stepped tentatively into the tunnel. I let out a slow, long breath and it echoed making me jump. Anxious about what would happen to me, I clenched my fists in apprehension. Leaving everything behind was the hardest decision I had to make, but I knew it was worth it. A light opened up at the end of the tunnel like God was messaging me. Forged documents in hand, I could hear the low, faint buzz of lorries up ahead. Closer and closer, each step brought me closer to my new life. The end was waving at me; beckoning me forward. At the side of the road, I waited for the perfect chance. Then I saw it. I jumped, landed and was moving. Moving towards my changed place in society.

Scrambling inside the back of the lorry, I noticed some other travellers. I introduced myself and we discussed tactics of getting over the border and stories from home. I must have nodded off to sleep as when I awoke we were crossing the border to the UK.

Jumping out of the lorry with concern, I checked both ways before darting into a clump of bushes. I had made it at last. Hitching a ride with some merry folk, I watched as the fairytale countryside disappeared into the bustling city. Attempting to swallow the prospect of leaving my war-bound home for this diverse foreign capital, I glanced around wondering where I could stay. Having no English money was a problem that I had faced in the travelling process, but I ignored it hoping for some charity from a few altruistic tourists. Realisation hit me; I had to find cheap or free accommodation fast.

Collecting together blankets and pillows, I set up camp in a gloomy alleyway and tried to sleep. When I awoke, I arose to find that I was ravenous though I had no money. It was hard work persuading passers-by, but one of them reluctantly handed over a delicious looking morsel. I could not tell what it was; it had chunks of chocolate and was a sort of rectangle shape. I scoffed it so delighted about the prospect of actually having something to eat.

Wary that I might be attracting attention, I decided to wander around the capital taking in the sites. But before I could do anything, two burly-looking policemen came up to me and handcuffed me. What had I done wrong? Onlookers gazed on in astonishment and some cried out in anguish. Once I had been shoved roughly into the van the crowd followed it.

Arriving at the police station, I was thrust into a cell. Feeling like a mouse about to be eaten by a hungry cat, I tried to think of a logical question to ask. Everything was a blur. The crowd suddenly materialised at the door of the station, hurling the need for explanations at the officers. “Just give me a chance,” I said.


I hope you enjoyed this story, and if you did make sure to let me know below. This story was inspired by the events of the refugee crisis and this story was written to spread the message that everyone is human and we all need to give a little more love to those less fortunate than ourselves.

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