“i dont want this to end” was the runner-up in The Isis’ ‘500 Words’ competition in Michaelmas 2019. Oliver Hodges, author of “i dont want this to end”, is a student at St Edmund Hall.

 

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i dont want this to end but im here now and im sorry and i want to make it work and isnt that what matters and i wont make the same mistake not again not like before it wont be like before it cant be and i was one of the photographs of the statues but out of place in a graveyard not a museum i was static and the wall was climbing up beside me and the sun was in her hair and she wasnt getting brighter she was stealing the sun the sun couldnt light her anymore and the wall was still climbing but im here before you im sorry and the fly was stuck in the thorns sharping through woven cords and my hand pushed out towards it i want to be with you she was reaching her hand out to mine following the fly trying to find a way out i want to find a way out of this to find a way out with you and the wall was still climbing and the sun was blocked now and the writing on the graves was fading and their tributes were being stolen by her their final words their legacies lifted from their own graves she was stealing their memory here he lies stolen from our memory by her a loving son a friend and a light in our lives she was stealing their light and the words were gone now and my hand had managed to avoid her thieving grasp and it was mine again how can i how can we make this work i wont i promise i couldnt ever again and all i heard was a flurry of negatives of negation of denial and the fly was out now it was scaling the wall escaping and she tried to snatch at it to take its freedom why arent you listening to me so we can make this work you never listen you never make things work youre to blame too and the fly was out of reach and still ascending and it was near the top of the wall but there was no light she had stolen the light she was still stealing it my fault how but i couldnt i was a statue and my words were fading too and the graves were blank and my memory had disappeared and i was not in a museum but among the dead and she was there pleading or stealing and the wall was still rising but the fly had reached the top and the light clasped shut and her hand was reaching out and i couldnt stop it yes i said yes and she leaned towards me yes and it will be different and you can trust me and yes the words had stopped and the sun was shut out and the fly had gone and my memory was stolen∎

 

Words by Oliver Hodges. Art by Daniel Olah.