‘There is a Border Somewhere’ by Pryor, Year 9, Soham Village College

There is a border somewhere in front of you. Or maybe behind you. Either way it’s in relation to the position
you stand at any time, the position which determines which side of the border you’re on.

You have never seen the border; you don’t know whether the border is visible or if it’s beyond your
perception. It could be a wall, it could be a line of chalk, it could be a rope.

The more you think about the border the more limitless it seems for such a limiting thing. It could be a
doorway or a door. It could be a circle of salt scattered on the cement you stand on. It could be a trail of
blood that never seems to end. It could be a pane of glass, too reinforced to break. It could be like earth’s
atmosphere, burning you upon entry. It could be a line where you never reach the front. It could be code,
unable to be hacked or cracked. It could be a lock that only opens from the inside, or the outside depending
on what side of the building you’re standing in. It could be a black and yellow striped piece of tape,
protecting you or protecting someone else depending what side of the tape you’re standing on. It could be
a metal door that breaks your fists instead of breaking under their force. It could be a fence, electrified or
with no gate. It could be nothing but a thought, powerful enough to make a border on its own. It could be a
waterfall, drowning anyone who wasn’t taught how to pass it. It could be a cave, the stone blocking the
entrance, too heavy to move. It could be a group, too close together to let anyone in or through. It could be a
mirror, only reflecting on your side of it. It could be rubber, pushing you back any time you try to enter. It
could be a hurricane, too dangerous to fight through. It could be a sea, ground slipping out beneath you if
you get too far away from the start. It could be a sound, too loud to think through. It could be paper, and ink,
and people.

All you know is that it’s a border, and that it means you can’t go over the border in any way even though
others can pass through it in every way.

You would like to see it someday, to visualise your space and the edges of it – where you are allowed to go
and where you are not. You wonder, if you found it, saw it, reached it, if you’d walk right through it or sneak
out – or in, depending on which side of the border you’re on – or if you’d turn and walk away.

You don’t know how to feel about the border, it is scary and daunting and anger and tears and anticipation
and something you haven’t felt yet.

But there is a border somewhere