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A Better Place to Live

‘Home is where the heart is’; this sentence is one many a man has theorised.
But what happens if the home is responsible for the heart been terrorised?
Imagine a young woman driving through the suburbs one night, seven months pregnant;
looking so peaceful, happy and prestigious, so unbelievably elegant.
She has no idea in a few seconds, she will experience terrible pain,
after which, there is nobody out there who will ever see her alive again,
for there are a few young boys who have been happily throwing back the beers;
but they are ignorant, wild and free, and they are living their younger years,
so it’s alright in Australia if you’re twenty one and drunk, twenty four/seven,
because it doesn’t matter if you kill one man or thousands – you’re still bound for Heaven.
There are no repercussions for ‘accidents’ in this country; no punishment for the crime,
instead, the five boys jump onto the internet and state how they can’t wait for the next time.

Never before had the boys felt so alive until the day they officially went homicidal,
after their car reached such impossible speeds and ploughed into the side of the young mother’s vehicle.
Online, their following grows incredibly larger, they now have two hundred thousand plus or more,
and all of their followers laugh when the boys announce ‘we’re glad we killed that slut, and her unborn whore.’
Later in court, the boys pretend to be truly remorseful, and claim to be sorry for what they have done;
in return, they receive a suspended sentence, and won’t have to serve a night in prison, that’s right, not one.
However, when told their licences will be suspended, they immediately lose their charm,
and publically explode and rant about how the legal system has caused them unjustly harm.
Their lawyers rush the boys out from the court as fast as possible, and explain how they have been set free,
and even though they aren’t allowed to drive, the hearts of judges cannot grieve over what they do not see.
Where is the justice? What happened to the system? Knife, car, it doesn’t matter – they are both potential murder weapons,
and if there’s no justice for the loss of two innocents, what hope is there for victims of burglary, rape or arson?

Today, five murderers were set free, but tomorrow they will be doing what they do best;
assaulting innocent victims, and ripping the hearts out from the victims family’s chests.
Tomorrow they will beat up a family at the local train station; the next, they will gang rape a young mother,
and they’ll get away with it too, because in Australia, being drunk is as good an excuse as any other.
Of course, the tabloids will cover it up, as will law enforcement and the government,
because that’s what politicians do; plot and scheme under the privilege of parliament.
How can your family be safe in their own home, when those assigned to protect you are just as guilty as any malicious murderer?
How can you protect yourself, when every second person has a knife, every third person a pistol and every fourth a grenade launcher?
Politicians say there are no racists in Australia; it’s a country of multiculturalism, unless of course your skin isn’t white,
in which case you will be racially attacked, slanderously assaulted and physically injured for the rest of your life every day and night.
Politicians say there is no violence in Australia, except for in those seven states,
because everywhere you look there is prejudice, there is anguish, there’s sexism and there is hate.

Politicians say Australia is the land of opportunity for those wishing to start a profession,
of course, none of this bureaucratic bullshit applies if a woman is the one applying for the position.
Politicians say the Australian crime statistics are a blatant over-exaggeration,
and there is nothing to fear on those dark city streets; except for the thousands of violent civilians,
and all the whilst as this antagonistic misogyny, violence and racism takes place,
the politicians of Australia do absolutely nothing, except attempt to save face.
Perhaps if those five boys had gone to prison, crime would have dropped by a fraction of a per cent,
and maybe the future of Australia would not be quite as bleak or dark as our present,
for those five drunk friends are not the only criminals who have escaped going to prison,
and so instead of doing time, they have the chance to kill another innocent person,
because they didn’t just kill two people that fateful evening, they also robbed another of their life;
that night they murdered a father’s beautiful unborn daughter, and a husband’s closest friend and darling wife.

The Man That Can’t Be Moved

SYNOPSIS: Jimmy, a student attempting to do a research project on the mysterious town of Gransnapia discovers a story about a statue of a man that is placed on a cliff overlooking the ocean, and why he will never leave.

Jimmy rode timidly upon his bike, the immaculate town of Gransnapia located around the bend, the entire town looking considerably bleak and dark, a shadow of its former self. He had never been present during its glory days, but had heard stories of its brilliance, which is why he had decided to do his assignment on the town. The teacher requested they write on something fantastical, and this was it. Jimmy however never imagined the town would be so frightening to behold, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end as he rode into town. A dense cover of fog emerged from the confines of small broken town houses and spiraled around him like ghosts, eager to accept him as one of their own.
Jimmy began to feel his decision to come was a mistake, slowly turning his bike around before slipping to the ground,  gravel digging into his skin, the fog appearing to laugh at his own inconvenience.  Making his way to his feet, Jimmy noticed an old man standing a few metres away, his clothes ragged and dirty. The man turned his head to look directly at him, causing a shudder to crawl along Jimmy’s spine. Taking a deep breath, Jimmy summoned all the courage he could muster before asking ‘do you know any interesting stories about this town mister?’
‘Depends’ stated the man, taking a step forward. ‘Do you want to hear a story’ he asked, ‘or do you want to hear a story?’
‘Which one is which?’ asked Jimmy.
‘The latter is far more fanciful’ stated the old man. He pointed up at a statue of a man placed atop of a cliff edge overlooking the entire town. The statue appeared sad and alone, the body posture signaling the man had lost something significantly dear to him, his head bowed in a silence that could never be broken. ‘I can tell you a story about the man that can’t be moved and the story of his Juliette for all eternity’ he said, before beginning to tell the tale.

The town of Gransnapia was traditionally inviting. Bright and beautiful, lights flourished across the city at night making the small civilisation stand out like a beacon.  However, what Gransnapia was most famous for, were its apples. Gransnapian apples were sold for twelve dollars per kilogram, visualised as one of the most succulent and addictive forms of fruit ever conceived. This world renowned delight was what made the town so famous, comprised of many wealthy industrialists who had made a living of extravagance and luxury for themselves.
However, nobody ever distinguished the true nature of the townsfolk. They were, each of them pretentious, egotistical and presumptuous, having a great amount of prejudice towards outsiders. If they were not a part of their society then they were simply seen as misfits, the scum of the Earth whom they believed needed to be swept clean.
The townsfolk wore luxurious and exquisite outfits, dining at the only restaurants they had ever known, incredible arenas which were crafted specifically for the kings and queens of industry.
This behaviour was clearly represented the day the new shipments of parts for their hydro-electric dam were sent over by ship from the far side of Australia. The vessel was black in colour, looking like a beast on the horizon as it docked in port. The gargantuan containers were removed from the ship, and in addition there was one passenger.  Nathaniel Buck was his name. His costume certainly wasn’t extravagant, appearing dirty and ragged from his trip at sea, his face unwashed and covered in hair. The townsfolk looked down at him as though he was a weed, one which needed to be destroyed quickly before any harm could be done to their Garden of Eden.
Nathaniel immediately had trouble attempting to be accommodated into a room at the local hotel, and the next morning found it even more trying when nobody wished to offer him a job, instantly being deported to the docks to ensure the area would be kept immaculate.
Whilst working there however, he couldn’t help but notice the comings and goings of an extraordinarily beautiful young woman. Virginia Copperfield was her name, daughter of Harvey, one of three men who had founded the Gransnapian apple trade.  Her blonde hair flew out behind her as she rolled by in a luxurious gold trimmed carriage, her attire being a blossoming gown made from the finest silk imaginable.
Nathaniel was told by fellow workers he was crazy for having any romanticised thoughts over such a person. But the dock master liked the work that Nathaniel had accomplished, providing him with a larger economical cash flow, and as he built up his savings, Nathaniel made himself more presentable.
Even after Nathaniel had dined with the best of the town however they still failed to provide him with any respect, especially Harvey, who had noticed the stranger looking at his daughter on countless occasions. He needn’t have worried however. The stranger was never able to sum up the courage to communicate to such an attractive young woman, believing, like the town did, that he was a creature no woman of such brilliance could ever have feelings for.
One night after watching an adventurous piece of dramatic art about a couple of travelers and their escapades, Nathaniel had actually met Virginia in the booth above the stage whilst he was making his way towards the exit. The both of them had stopped what they had been previously doing and looked at one another for a second. Nathaniel had attempted to form words, but had ultimately failed, instead, tipping his hat in the presence of the beautiful young woman and departing from sight.
Although he was still disliked by the locals, Nathaniel did indeed begin to have additional occupations opened to him. Through these he was able to pull off many endeavours the entrepreneurs wished to have accomplished, from moving something from one place to another, to helping to advertise for bigger business. The most attractive feature of such occupational occurrences was the payment, which added to the luxurious lifestyle Nathaniel wished to concoct for himself. He had come to believe such wealth would make him appear to be quite the gentlemen in the eyes of Virginia, nothing apart from his self esteem been able to stop him from achieving his dream of finally being able to ask her to spend an evening with him.   
When Nathaniel realised Virginia was being sent by ship to Europe a couple of weeks later under the machinations of her father he felt his entire body begin to shut down in grief. As the luxuriously gargantuan vessel pulled out from the harbour, Nathaniel stood atop of a cliff edge overlooking the vast ocean, and for a moment, just one, he could have sworn he noticed Virginia look up at him. It was almost as though she too had wanted him to approach all this time, and in one split second all opportunities were vanquished.
Days turned to weeks. Weeks turned to months, and months inevitably turned to years as Nathaniel continued to wait on the cliff edge for his beloved to return, to tell her exactly how he felt and pray he was not too late to be with her for all eternity.
But never did the ship return. Nathaniel continued to wait after the ship and all of its crew were reported missing, and after a period of seven long years the constant brutality of the sun caused Nathaniel’s skin to crumble into rock, until he became a part of the cliff itself.
A few months later it was reported the vessel had been attacked by enemy troops invading Europe, no survivors ever being reported after the ship had being razed into the depths of the ocean.

Jimmy took a few steps back, his mouth open in shock, unable to say anything to properly establish the way he currently felt. ‘Wow’ he managed to say in awe.
‘Yes’ nodded the elderly man. ‘Virginia and Nathaniel were the best of all those who ever entered the town, and without them Gransnapia inevitably destroyed itself through wrong doing.’
Jimmy looked at his watch before shouting ‘gee, thanks mister, but I really must go now’, quickly leaping onto his bike and beginning to ride out of the town. He turned around suddenly and looked up at the statue one last time, instantly recognising the resemblance. The old man was the ghost of Nathaniel, trapped for an eternity away from his true love, the two of them cursed to forever be apart.