The Trial

I only had 350 words to work with, and the language could not be too complex or passive.

I used Sihle as my main character - I'll write about my other kids some other time.

The last day of the competition had arrived. Sihle knew that his chances were good. He had listened to the coach’s advice, he had trained hard, he was fit, he was ready for this! His most serious rival for the position of striker was Thabo, but Sihle felt confident that he could beat him. As Sihle walked to the hostel, his phone buzzed – a message. “Maybe it’s mom,” he thought. “She said she would call to wish me luck.” But as he looked at the screen, he realised it was a number he didn’t know. Yr mom is sick come home now Sihle’s mouth dried up. He shook his head. What should he do? The final trial was in two hours. Should he wait till afterwards or should he leave now? What was more important – the trial or getting home? The decision was easy – family first! He ran back to the dormitory and started packing. He’d get the first bus home. “Hey, bra! What you doing? The trials are starting now-now!” It was his friend Vuyo. Sihle told him what had happened. “Sorry, man!” said Vuyo. “Did your mom ask you to come?” “No, I got an sms saying I must come now,” said Sihle. “Mmm …” said Vuyo. “Let me see that message. It sounds a bit off to me.” He looked at Sihle’s phone. Then he looked at his phone “I thought so!” he said. “That’s Thabo’s number. He sent the message.” “Why would he do that?” wondered Sihle. “Well, you’re his only competition for striker and Thabo really wants to win, “answered Vuyo. “This is his way of trying to get you to leave, or to play badly. I’m not surprised – he never plays fair.” Just then, Sihle’s phone rang. “Hullo, my boy. It’s Mom – I’m just calling to wish you luck.” Suddenly Sihle’s head cleared – it was all trick and he had nearly fallen for it. But, unlike Thabo, he would play fair. He squared his shoulders and picked up his kit. “Thanks, Vuyo. Now it’s time to play and may the best man win!”