Chapter Two

He could feel the wet tears streaking down his face. Why was he crying? He wondered as he never cry's. Suddenly a great wave of sadness washes over him. Crushing him, pulling him down, and trying to drown him. So strong a sadness that it feels like the waves were real and crushing his body. Then anger, fiery anger takes hold of him. The inferno inside growing, extending through every cell of his body. The anger feeding the blaze, making it hotter, bigger and stronger until it consumed his every thought.

Looking up from his position on the floor, seeing the blurry figure, not knowing who or what it is but knowing without a doubt that this is the source of his anger, the focus of his hate. He can feel the fire burning upon the hate, as though the fire hates the figure just as strongly as he does. Then it's no longer him and the fire. He is the fire, every flick of flame a part of him, no longer two separate entities. Yet two parts of a whole, completing one another. He wants to destroy the figure that has caused him this sadness. Burn it from existence to become nothing but ash. He hates it, hates the pain this entity has caused and his fire grows, he grows, stretching out towards the figure.

The grouch sounding of a man shouting "Oi Kid" startles him awake. Taking deep breaths as reminisces of the dream leave his mind. It had been the same dream he had been having for the past three months now, ever since he had left home.

Turning around to face the owner of the voice, he lets out a sigh. It was Gavin. One of the other six squatters that he was sharing this hell hole with. He supposes that he'd been lucky to have even found a place that offered some shelter at night, from the September weather of Cairns Australia, for someone who now had nothing. 'And that's who I am' his own bitter voice vibrating round his head, 'you're a nothing'.

Sneering at the short, middle age man, dressed in an oiled stained blue jeans, a moth bitten black cotton jumper with three horizontal light green stripes running across his chest, and a blue baseball cap adorning his head that looked like it had been dragged from the marsh lands.

He hated Gavin. Not for the range of clothes that he wore, that would be stupid. You wore whatever you could get your hands on to keep yourself clothed. No, he hated him for the fact that he had been trying to steal his sleeping spot against the back wall, of what must had been a house at some point, but now has more resemblance to a third world shanty town building. It was in one of the neighbourhoods that had been flooded a month before he arrived.

"What do you want?" John asks as he stands, pulling on the light brown leather jacket that he had been using as a quilt during the night to keep himself warm. It was one of the items that he had stolen, since all he had when he left home were the clothes on his back, a packet of cigarettes, his wallet, twenty dollars and a gold coloured zippo lighter with a light blue flame painted on the front with the engraving of son running along the bottom, which had been a gift from his mum on his sixteenth birthday.

"Don't bitch to me kid" Gavin says, baring his crocked yellow teeth, "You're the one screaming down the place."

Grabbing the black and orange backpack, which he had stolen from the beach, now containing what little he had managed to acquire, and throwing it onto his back. He Moves into Gavin's face as he hisses "Fuck You" before shouldering past him and through the rotten wooden front door and onto the front lawn.

With clenched fists he starts stalking down the street in the direction of the local shops in a hunt of something to eat. He knows that sometimes he would call out in his sleep, but it wasn't anything he could control. He wasn't even the only one; a few others would shout out too, it was just one of the things you got used to when sleeping around other squatters. Yet Gavin had been trying to get him thrown out of the house ever since he got there a month ago. "Fucking prick thinks he's the bloody king of that shit whole" John mumbles under his breath. Luckily none of the others listen to him or he would have to find another place to sleep. Since leaving Sydney and having to live on his own was harder than he had once thought.

The memory of the first day, waking up under a jungle gym in the park a few miles from his house, in nothing but his dark blue top, chino shorts and bare blackened feet flashed before his eyes bringing him to a stop on the side of the road. Closing his eyes, remembering the moment of waking up and wondering why he had slept outside, until the crushing realization of the fact had hit him. He was alone. He had wanted to go home, to his own bed, but the feeling inside of him told him that he couldn't, that he needed to get out of Sydney, even though he didn't know why.

It had taken a few days, having had to steal a pair of trainers and the backpack with the light brown leather jacket inside, from the beach whilst there owner was out swimming, to come up with a plan of getting away, having had to sleep in the back streets of houses and public gardens during that time. It had been simple really, he had needed to get to somewhere where nobody knew him, and which had the potential for him to get a job, for schooling was impossible now if he wanted to have food to eat. That's how he had ended up in Cairns; it was backpacker central with the chance of getting a job that wouldn't need to have a full background check, therefore able to use the fake driving licence he had gotten after his birthday, and given cash in hand. It had taken nearly two month to get here, having had to hitch hike, for the $20 was long ago spent on simply trying to feed himself before having had to turn to stealing for food. It had been hard to start with but it was either that or starving so the gilt faded fast.

It had only been a week after arriving that he had been able to get a job at the bird, a coffee shop linked with a hostel, just a two minutes' walk form Cairns Harbour Lights. It was perfect, after having convinced them that he was simply backpacking around himself but wished to stay a while in Cairns. The job paid in cash and he was able to use the hostel's showers and laundry facilities for free. They even gave him the option to stay there for cheaper than board rates, yet he had refused as he had gotten used to sleeping rough and needed to be careful with the money that he spent.

Taking a deep breath and shaking the thoughts of the past couple of months from his head, he continued on his way down the street to find something to eat.

The walk from his sleeping pit, for it wasn't a home, to the shops took about twenty minutes. The houses around were pretty much as derelict as the one that he was staying in, with rotten doors, cracked windows and caved in roots. It would have been easier to stay in a house closer to the less flood damaged area but that would have only brought suspicion. Even though the house he was in was just as damaged as the rest he passed, it was the last one on the street; far enough away that nobody would notice it being used for squatting.

After walking into the small local shop and buying a red juicy apple, for it wasn't good practice to steal from a place so close to where he was staying as he had found out in Townsville, John made his way across the small park opposite the shop to catch the bus that would take him to Cairns Pire and from there a short walk to the bird to start his shift.


Rising from his seat as the bus came to a stop outside Cairns Pier John made his way down the steps to start the short walk to the bird. On his trek to the shop he tried in vain to avoid barging into the busy Saturday crowd until he came to stop in front of the coffee shop. The shop had large glass windows and a glass door, and a yellow banner running along the top with a pitcher of a black hawk in mid-flight over the entrance on the right.

Pushing open the door, John made his way between the yellow tables and black chairs to the back of the shop where the staff room was located behind a door with the same mild yellow colour as the tables. He entered the simple 1234 code in the code box mounted on the wall next to the door.

Entering the staff room which walls were painted white, and three doors each one labelled either 'hostile', 'floor' or 'shop'. The staff lockers where stacked against the left wall, a yellow table with four chairs at the back of the room near the 'hostile' black door. Also a kitchen island on the right of the room completed with cupboards, fridge, microwave, sink and an instant free hot drinks machine.

Walking over to his locker to retrieve the shops uniform, which was a light yellow shirt with black buttons and navy blue trousers, and clean underwear, leaving behind his bag and light brown leather jacket, he crossed the room to the black door labelled Hostile where he would be able to take a shower before he started his 8 hour shift.

Freshly showered and dressed, having thrown the dirty clothes in one of the hostile's washing machines and having dumped the borrowed towel into the discarded bin to be washed, John made his way back to the staff room.

Once inside he was confronted by the sight of Jess sitting at the table. Her long blond hair tied back in a ponytail and light blue eyes behind rectangle pink glasses.

"Hey Sweet" she calls in a clear English accent "you're on with me today" flashing John a smile reviling slightly crocked white teeth.

"Great Jess" John reply's with a grunt whilst taking out a cup from the cupboard above the sink, poring honey in the bottom, and settling in beneath the coffee machine.

Jess's high pitch laughter fills the room as the coffee starts to fill his cup.

"Oh, is sweet not having a good day?" she asks John as he takes a seat across from her with his coffee cup in hand.

Instead of replying to her teasing, settling instead of glaring at her over the rim of his mug as he starts drinking. Jess was a backpacker and had been working at the bird for two months before he had got the job here. She was twenty two, and had been traveling around Australia with her boyfriend Matt for the past year and a half. Yet as they were both from England their visas were coming to end and they had decided to spend the last few months in Cairns. She had been the one who trained him and was pretty easy to get along with as nothing seemed to bother her even when he was in a mood and just blanket everyone; she never took it to hart and simply allowed him get on with it.

Yet the one annoying thing about her was the fact that she always called him 'sweet'. After having snapped at her telling her "I'm not fucking sweet so stop fucking calling me that" with a vile sneer on his face, she had just smiled at him and had said "Of course you are sweet, because of the amount of honey you put in your coffee". After that he had decided it best not to comment, at least it wasn't because she thought he wasn't 18, which he had told everyone that he was.

"So what is bothering you then?" she asks with a smile of concern as her eyes lock with John.

"Nothing just had a bad night that's all." John reply's averting his gaze; she was a bit too friendly sometimes always wanting to know if he was alright and if anything was bothering him, but she never pushed too much. It's not like he needed help. He can take care of himself and his problems without anyone's help.

"Really, it seems to me that you're in a bit of a mood today. And I know it's not because you're working with me, you love working with me. Who wouldn't?" Jess laughs.

John's lips twitch up in amusement; it was true she was pretty easy to work with. Yet he was feeling a bit run down, ever since having left Sydney it felt like he never had any time to be himself. Always having to think what he had to do to get through the day, what the next day would bring, did he even have a future anymore?

Letting out a sigh, as he cradles his coffee cup in both of his hands, staring at the dark drown liquid he admits "I'm just tired Jess, nothing to worry about" moving his eyes too stare into Jesses blue ones.

Her pale eyebrows rise to his admission and in an exasperated voice says "Of course you're tired; you've been on every shift for the past two weeks." Shaking her head "You need to let go and enjoy yourself. What's the point in working all the time and not having a bit of fun at the end?"

"Thanks, but I don't exactly have money to waste" John snaps at her taking a large gulp of the hot liquid.

"John, you've been here over a month now and you haven't once been out and actually explored, let alone seen the night life. Why are you even here if not to have a good time and see what's around?"

John ignores the question, instead taking another gulp of his coffee looking over at the locker as if they were the most interesting things in the world.

"Exactly" Jess's eyes sparkle as a grin takes over her face "you'll come out with me tonight after work. It won't cost much as we'll be drinking at mine before we go to Shell. And its free entrance on Saturday's and supper cheap drinks so no need to worry about spending too much money"

John stays silent; it's not that he didn't want to go out, because he did. It had been so long since he had had any type of fun and the opportunity to let go and be a proper teenager without any worries was tempting. Yet there were other things that the money could be spent on, more vital things like food and maybe a new top.

Jess's voice brakes through his dilemma "You're eighteen John you need to have some fun. I promise we'll have an amazing night."

John looks at her, smirking at her statement. He knew that he shouldn't go but the voice inside his head was screaming at him to let go. Just for one night, not having to carry what felt like the weight of Ayers rock on his shoulders was just too tempting to say no to.

"Alright I'll come" He decrees as he gets to his feet, downing the last of his coffee and placing the mug into the sink.

Jess smiles brightly as she moves to place her now empty mug alongside his. "You won't regret it" she says excitedly as she places her hand on his arm, "You can come straight to mine when we finish here and we'll pick up some cheap drinks on the way."

John turns to face her "I've only got the old jeans and t-shirt that I wore in today" he states "I don't have any nice clothes with me" or at all he adds to himself.

Jess just smiles up at him "No worries, Matt's got tons of shirts and trousers that you can borrow" she laughs "honestly he has more clothes than I do."

"C'mon we better make a start before Brian barges in here demanding why we haven't relieved him yet" Jess says.

John gives out a quiet snort before grabbing his light blue apron and name tag from his locker and making his way to the door labelled 'shop' to start his shift with a smile tugging at his lips. Thinking that tonight was going to be a much needed night of letting lose.