She bent down to pick up what she thought was a half-buried shell.

The original prompt

Flo bent down to pick up what she thought was a half-buried seashell. The smell of salty water swirls around her and the wet sand prickles at her toes as she bends to her knees.

‘What’s this?’ she asks herself running her fingers across the bumpy surface of the shell. It is a mossy green colour with a small patch of deep blue which shines under the sun’s rays.

Flo digs her fingers into the sand trying to feel for the edge of the shell. ‘This shell is ginormous,’ she says, excitement in her voice.

‘Where does it –,’ Something to her right drew her eyes away from the shell. A brown, pointed shape like a small rugby ball begins emerging from the sand. It sways left and then right.

She stops her digging and watches. Two eyes blink on either side of the shape. It isn’t a rugby ball at all. It’s a head.

‘What are you doing here?’ Flo asks the sandy creature.

The creature lifts his head a little higher in response to her voice. Flo looks from the head to the seashell in front of her, realising what she’s found.

‘This is your shell, that’s why I can’t pick it up. You’re a turtle!’ The proud feeling of solving the mystery bubbles inside her.  

‘Don’t worry, I’ll help you get out,’ she says. ‘How did you get stuck here anyway?’ She begins pulling the sand away with her hands. She doesn’t have to dig for long before she sees the answer to her question.  

She gasps at the sight of the fishing wire wrapped tightly around the top of the turtle’s fin.

‘That’s horrid,’ a voice from behind her calls.

‘Sam,’ she says to her older brother, ‘go away. I found him and I’m going to save him.’

‘Don’t be so stupid, Flossie,’ he says crouching down next to her. She looks at the blood on the turtle’s wound.

‘Well alright,’ she says moving over. ‘But his name is Duggy. I get to choose because I found him.’

‘We have to help him Flossie. He’s a sea turtle. He belongs in the sea not on the sand.’

‘I know,’ Flo says hanging her head. ‘I’m sorry, I was just excited to see him.’

Sam looks to his little sister. He knew she loved animals and couldn’t help herself around them.

‘Yeah, I know. But now we can help him together. Come on.’ He says straightening up.

‘Where are we going?’ Flo asks.

‘We need to find something to cut that wire. It’ll be too hard for him to swim with that on, plus it looks like it is really hurting him.’

‘That’s probably why he got stuck here.’ Flo says solving the mystery. ‘We’ll be back soon Duggy,’ she says patting the turtle’s shell.

It doesn’t take long for Sam and Flo to return with a pair of scissors from their Mum’s car.

‘We’re back Duggy. We’re going to help you now.’ Flo falls back onto her knees. The turtle lifts his head and sways it back and forth. ‘You’ll be okay.’

‘I hope these are strong to cut the wire,’ Sam says looking from the pair of office scissors in hand to the metal wire cutting into the turtle’s skin. He gently runs the tips of his fingers up the turtle’s fin towards the tangle.

‘He doesn’t like that,’ Flo announces. Sam looks up, the turtle’s eyes look sad.

‘I know Flo, but we have to get it off,’ he says. ‘Remember what Dad always says when he’s looking after sick animals?’

She thinks for a second.

‘Sometimes, you have to be cruel to be kind,’ she says.

‘Exactly. This is what we’re doing. It’ll hurt him for a second but then it’ll be gone and he’ll be able to go free again.’ Sam looks back at the bloody wound. ‘Maybe just talk to him,’ he says to Flo, ‘try and keep him calm.’

‘Okay. I’ll try.’ Sam turns back to the wire. ‘You’re going to be back in the sea soon,’ Flo begins, ‘and the water’s going to be so refreshing.’

Sam begins working to the sound of her voice. The sea is splashing on the rocks sending sprays of water soaring through the air. Seagulls cry out above them in protest; theirs no one to share fish and chips with.

 The scissors aren’t sharp so it’s an effort to cut through just a single layer of the entanglement.

‘Are you nearly done?’ Flo asks.

‘It’s no use,’ Sam groans. He throws the scissors into the sand and falls back on his heels in frustration. ‘They’re useless. We’ll be here ‘til next week trying to free him with those.’

Flo’s eyes began to fill with water as the pair sit looking at the injured sea-turtle.

‘Wait! I’ve got an idea,’ Sam says jumping to his feet and running back up the beach.



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