Small Town Fairy Tales

Small towns are toxic wastelands filled with ill intentions and traps around every corner. You can hear the creatures crawling and howling with every step you take, their claws ready to dig in whenever you are at your most vulnerable. People get trapped in the channels of booze and illegitimacies. It is a dog-eat-dog cycle, destined to repeat itself. Born into a set fate, a set class; few change their position. A small-town fairy tale is where someone gets to leave intact, fruitful, and with no intention to return to those who have plagued them. However, many are denied a physical escape; instead, they seek a means to an end through their choice of poison.

I laid on the soggy grass under the sprinkler, as the smell of rotten eggs mixed with raw sewage drifted into my nose. I did not care about the smell in the heat. I let my clothes become drenched and my hair go curly. I left my eyes closed and spread my arms and legs out like a starfish on the lawn. I hated bore water, but it was the only water used in town since the restrictions started. I paid no attention to anything else but the feeling of warm water trickling over my skin; I could feel pools forming in my eye sockets and smiled. In my state of ecstasy and relief, I had not been able to hear the shrill voice getting closer to me.

‘What the hell are you doing on my lawn!’ a bellowing voice called out, ‘Get the fuck out of here!’ the voice was higher pitched now and aggravated. I don’t bother looking in the direction of the voice; this side of town was for the rich, all of whom hated the townies. I sprinted off into the street, taking a short cut through a park before hiding behind some trees to see if the owner of the voice was following me. She wasn’t. I sat in the shade of the trees and wrung out my shirt into the dry, red dirt at my feet, thinking about how mad my dad will be if he finds out I went into this side of town. The dry air was hard on my throat, and when the final beads of water disappeared from my skin, I started the long walk back home. I laughed to myself as I noticed the sprinklers and green grass disappear, and slowly become replaced by lawns of dried, cracked dirt.

I ignored dad when he asked where I had been. I quickly shuffled into my room and hid my damp clothes before he had the chance to notice them. I hadn’t told him I’d bought a coach ticket to the Coast; I hadn’t told him I was going to live with mum. The light from beneath my door disappears, and I cover myself in a towel just in case.

‘You okay, Zoe?’ he calls through the door.

‘Yep.’

‘Where’d you go today?’

‘Just walked around town.’

‘Uh. Okay,’ I could hear the hurt in his voice. He could sense my unease, and the distance I was putting between us. It was easier this way. When the light under my door came back, I fell back onto my bed. I messaged Jay.

Jay was pissing on a guy passed out near the fence. I shuddered as the boys laughed and chugged their drinks back faster. The air was cool, and my toes ached in my boots, as the lining was not thick enough to stop blisters from forming. The music was loud and wordless. There were two groups. One around a dying fire, with people sitting on random objects and people who had passed out early and laid motionless out on dead grass. The other group were slowly breaking a poorly constructed tent with their dancing. I stood between the groups, my vision blurred. The boys kept egging Jay on.

‘Shit on him now, Jay!’

‘Do it, Jay!’

‘Yeah, Jay!’

Jay was delirious; his thin, feeble body was shaking beneath his jeans and shirt. I felt sick and didn’t want to watch the rest of his act. I shook my head and walked across the paddock to find a small spot next to the fire, where I sat between a box of Fruity Lexia and a girl who I felt obliged to watch over. She was lying dangerously close to the fire, legs sprawled out and drool slowly leaking onto the sleeve of her shirt. I pushed her back from the flames and helped myself to the Fruity Lexia, cringing with every swig.

‘I have orange juice for that,’ a slurred voice called from behind me. I turned to find Jay walking my way; he pushed through the crowd and sat next to me. He pulled a bottle out from his back pocket and gave it to me.

‘Jay, this is a fruit drink. I don’t even think this is juice,’ I laughed and opened the lid, pouring Fruity Lexia inside.

‘Eh, whatever. Tastes good with Goon,’ he muttered and laid back to stare at the sky, with a joint wobbling in his lips as he spoke. We sat in silence. I watched the people around me reach various levels of intoxication and other forms of escape. People were having sex a couple of metres behind us, and fights were starting to break out. I sat and drank. Unsure of why I was even here. I was going to begin my walk to the car when Jay started to mutter.

‘Everyone hates me,’ he whispered, eyes staring straight into the sky. I took another swig from the bottle.

‘Maybe if you didn’t shit and piss on them, they wouldn’t. You know?’ I shrugged and chuckled a little. Jay didn’t laugh. His face remained serious.

‘No, you don’t get it, Zoe. People take one look at me, and they hate me straight up,’ he closed his eyes and pulled out a cap from his pocket.

‘You might want to ease up,’ I placed my hand on his and waited for his eyes to open. He stared at me briefly.

'Fuck easing up.'

‘You wanna go? Josh is driving, and this place is getting rough.’

Jay sat up and pulled his hand away. He was already one MDMA cap deep into his night, which explained the shaking and black eyes.

‘Zoe, I’m not going. Just go home. You're leaving me anyway,’ he sneered.

‘I can’t stay here Jay…’ I lowered my eyes from him; their black intensity was scaring me, ‘You know that. There’s nothing for me-’

‘I’m here to get fucked up,’ he cut me off and stood quickly to make his way over to the swaying tent. I watched him take the cap before he entered. I laid back next to the passed-out girl and waited for my eyes to adjust to the darkness above me. The stars slowly started to show, and I finished off the rest of my drink. The stars gleamed vaguely, too far removed from me and everyone here. They offered me no solace in their beauty, just despair at our lack of significance.