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ᴛʜᴇ ᴡ ʀ ɪ ᴛ ɪ ɴ ɢ ( 1 ) > atop the broken hill

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message 1: by kaya (last edited Jun 10, 2016 01:01PM) (new)

kaya (ananats) | 389 comments
      A T O P   T H E   B R O K E N   H I L L
    A girl goes on a quest of sorts, a road trip around her state.
    A boy fulfills his sister's dying wish - he falls in love.
    A brother chases his sister's reckless journey, hoping to catch her in time.
    A sister lies in hospital, waiting for the doctors to give up.
    A police officer follows the wild trail of teenage madness across the north-west, dragging her brother along.
    A group of semi-innocent teenagers get arrested for underage driving without a valid license, stranded over a thousand kilometres from home.
    They learn a very important lesson - always make sure you have enough money to a) bail yourself out of being arrested and b) catch a train home. And don't give up, no matter how far away your dreams might seem.



message 2: by kaya (new)

kaya (ananats) | 389 comments
C H A R A C T E R S
( matt )— Matilda Darcy Owens

( jack )— Jackson Elliott Owens

( sam )— Samuel Angus Walsh

( charlie )— Charlotte Rebecca Walsh

( nick )— Nicholas Harvey

( drew )— Andrea Christine Harvey



message 3: by kaya (last edited Jun 10, 2016 02:48AM) (new)

kaya (ananats) | 389 comments
C H A P T E R   ONE

    m a t t

e n t r y #1 ; 15 december 2020

It was the seventeenth of December, 2016. The first day of the summer holidays was disgustingly hot, as always. The tourists were already swarming through our hometown of Coffs Harbour, and Mum and Dad were frantically packing for our annual trip. Every year, during the tourist season, our parents dragged Jack, Lucie, Aidan and me down the coast to Forster, where we would stay with our grandparents for the next five weeks. It was an effective method of escaping the interminable heat and stereotypical bogan Queenslanders and moronic New South Welshmen that dragged bratty children through the Big Banana, ice cream smeared across their faces as they left their trademark of sticky fingers and melted cones all over the asphalt carparks.
Forster, being smaller and further from the Gold Coast, tended to attract fewer tourists, mainly those who didn't wish to suffer the hellishly crowded beaches of the South Coast, or the tedium of a car trip all the way to the Gold Coast. So every year, the weekend after school ended, the entire Owen family would pack our bags and speed down the highway to Forster, Jack and Lucie playing 'spotto' for the entire trip, while I mused over how much less congested the highway going south was compared to the one going north. Aidan spent the entire trip hiding in the back of the car, evading Jack and Lucie's punches after every yellow vehicle that passed by.

That year was different, for many reasons. The first was that Lucie wasn't coming - she was down in Melbourne with her friends. The second was that Jack had promised he wouldn't punch Aidan at all, and the third was that I ran away.
It wasn't really that difficult - I was seventeen, so I had my P plates, and my own car. It was a white Mitsubishi Magna from 1996, and it ran pretty well for such an old car.
I also had a bank account with close to two thousand dollars in it, having saved up since Year Seven with absolutely no idea what to spend my money on. So I was pretty much set, and if it all went to billy-oh, I had a couple of hundred dollars in cash plus my phone and concession entitlement, so I could catch a train to Sydney and call my parents to pick me up.
Of course, that's not what ended up happening.

In reality I wrote a half-page apology letter to my family saying I was going on a road trip, then drove off at one in the morning on the Saturday.



message 4: by kaya (last edited Sep 03, 2016 10:04PM) (new)

kaya (ananats) | 389 comments
C H A P T E R   T W O

    m a t t

e n t r y #2 ; 15 december 2020

It was freezing cold, two am, and I was utterly lost. When I'd planned on running away, I hadn't accounted for how damn dark it would be. And since it was summer, I'd rather expected it to be warmer. I'd already tried turning the headlights on, but the car batteries were dead. This was the harsh reality - I was stuck on a road in the middle of nowhere, an hour away from Coffs Harbour. Two in the morning was probably not the best time to call the NRMA, since they would a) be annoyed at me for calling so damn early and b) call my parents. Which would result in utter chaos and Mum threatening to hide my car keys. So I couldn't call them for a new battery, and since this was the North Coast, there were absolutely no goddamn train stations anywhere. If you broke down on the South Coast, you'd just be able to wander off to the nearest train station and catch the next train to Sydney. But this was the North Coast, home of horribly inadequate transport and absolutely no Opal cards.
I thought about what Jack would say when he found out. He'd be furious - that much was a given - and if it were up to him, I'd never see the light of day again.

Just as I was about to give up all hope, a tractor drove past, pulling over the moment they saw me. The owner walked towards the car, then leaned on the bonnet. "Broken down, is she?"
"Yeah," I answered. "Battery died."
"That'd be right. She's not in bad shape. Should keep going fine for a few more years. Listen, I've got an NRMA fellow coming to the farm tomorrow with a new battery for my tractor, so if we can get there, I'll see if he can't bring a car battery with him."

Knowing that Mum would probably murder me for going off with someone I'd never met before, I followed him. We pushed the Magna almost a kilometre before we saw his farm, and by that time the first, tiny, rays of light were beginning to peep over the horizon. The silhouetted homestead on the hill was gloriously inviting, and as the tractor hauled the car up the incline I could make out a pair of kids standing on the verandah. I then realised just how little distance I'd managed to go - the elder one, the boy, attended my school.



message 5: by kaya (new)

kaya (ananats) | 389 comments
C H A P T E R   T H R E E
s a m
18 december 2016

SIX in the morning is one of the worst times to come across someone you know.



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