The Fight

I sit on the veranda of our small weathered house the fly’s buzzing around my head like an army endlessly attacking. A slight breeze stirs the leaves of the gums causing a little relief from the hot sun forever pulsing its heat onto my back. In the distance I can hear the slow constant whirring of the factory. The same factory that is polluting out air, our water and our lives. The wind shifts again causing the smell of our green, algae infested pond to waft its way into my senses.1

The sound of a motorbike comes to my attention and I stand up eagerly awaiting the arrival of the mail. As a yellow blur turns the corner I make my way to the front gate down out dusty garden path.2

‘Did it come?! Did it come?!’3

‘Yes Annabelle, it’s here’4

My heart pounds as Georgina the post woman (as she likes to be called) hands me an envelope with Bundarra Council stamped on the back. This is it, all our hard work, our efforts, our fighting; the result is contained in this envelope. I walk slowly up the garden path not noticing my surrounding only thinking of the envelope in my hand and the effect it would have on so many lives.5

Dad bursts out from inside the house nearly unhinging the old fly screen door.6

‘Is that is?’ he asks me. I nod my head, straining with the effort of having to relate myself back to the outside world.7

‘Well come on open it’ 8

‘Dad, this letter contains the product of our efforts for the past two years’ I pause, hesitant.9

‘I can’t bring myself to open it, you’ll have to do it’10

Dad nods and takes the envelope from my trembling hands. He slips his brown calloused fingers into the side and rips it open. Taking the thick stark white paper out he unfolds it and pauses.11

‘Ok here we go, “dear Mr. and Miss Simons, we have received all you arguments and evidence.. Blah blah. Oh no! No they can’t!’12

‘Dad what? What is it?’ hoping that the fear welling up inside of me wasn’t conveyed through my voice.13

‘Apparently the power station is what this town relies on to keep us going, it makes too much money to stop it or relocate it. They would rather poison our water and the air we breathe than lose money.’14

‘What..? How can they do that that? Can’t they see what they are doing is wrong? What about our evidence? How can they ignore that? The toxins report on out dead fish? The increase in poisonous gases in the air we breathe? Or most importantly the people, our friends, our family that have been diagnosed with all types of cancer, illness’s and diseases?’15

‘I know sweetie, they know it too but obviously they would rather people die and get sick than lose a little profit.’16

‘But dad’ I whispered ‘what about mum, that filthy factory caused her death. We can’t let others die the same way she did, in so much pain.’17

‘I know but what else is there to do? We tried everything’18

I rush towards my father and collapse in his arms, both of us with tears running down my face, and thoughts streaming through our minds. Mum, the fight, the poison, the love. Dad leads me to my room and puts me on my bed.19

‘Dad don’t leave me’ I sob. He lays down next to me and we both slip into darkness.20

‘Don’t worry honey; we’ll try again and again for however long it takes. We will get there in the end.21