Out Of This World

Portland proved to be adequate for the short time we remained there. The small sea side town had a small school for its small community and many of the houses were hidden amongst the beach side foliage like ours. It was exactly what we needed.

“Exactly what they’ll be expecting,” Dad said. And we were off again.

After Portland, we got on a ferry and crossed Bass Straight down to Tasmania where we lived for about a week in Stanley. From Stanley we went to St Helens, from St Helens we moved to Port Arthur. Then it was back on the ferry, back in the car and more driving around Australia.

By then our group was so restless and tired of each other as much as the situation, we had broken off into littler groups.

Michelle and Grace stuck together, gossiping and complaining about the tedious paranoia of their partners. Ben looked out for Ada as closely as if she had only just learned how to walk, though in most cases she was more capable of surviving on her own than him. James and my dad spent the majority of their time with a map of Australia spread over their laps, talking to each other in hushed mumbles. Whether this was because of the constant fear of being caught, or because everyone else refused to talk to them, I didn’t know. It was probably a bit of both.

And then there was me. I followed instructions, I kept my mouth shut. Our group was odd numbered.

Needless to say, that when we got on a small white speed boat, we were all overjoyed to hear James announce that this was our last stop, until threatened otherwise.

Thursday Island was a small dot of land that belonged to the Torres Straight Islands located just north of Cape York Peninsula: Australia’s most northern point. Thursday island had an area of 3.5km squared and an estimated population of 3,500.

Thursday Island Township: the most northerly town in Australia

Woo-fucking-hoo.

I stared at the sign, brows knotted, hands hidden deep within the pockets of my board shorts. I scoffed before stepping around it, taking out my hands and resting them on my hips. I was standing on the foot path of a two lane main road, around which sat a number of small shops and cafes. To my right was a Coles supermarket, the largest shop on the island no doubt, I thought negatively, and ahead, a public library. At the end of the road was a round about, almost the same size as the Coles, with two roads breaking off in different directions. Beyond the community area, tropical trees filled every available space. I was standing at one of the furthest points from the beach, yet the smell of salt was still evident in the air. I scoffed again before taking a seat on a bench outside Coles.

There was a chuckle and I turned to see a boy putting out a cigarette with the heel of his right thong.

“Its really not that bad,” he smiled, putting his hands in his pockets and strolling towards me.

Well, now that you’re here…

“I’m Andrew,” he said holding out a hand which I smilingly took, “You’re the one that’s moved in down Wheeler Street right?”

I laughed, “I honestly don’t know.”

“This town is really small, don’t be surprised if more people know your house than your name,” he said, “Mind if I sit here? My friend’s just in Coles, I’ll be out of your way in a minute.”

“Go ahead. My name’s Kim, by the way.”

Andrew nodded, his long curls bouncing around his jaw line, his russet skin creasing as a smile parted his lips.

“So I’m guessing you’re joining Thursday Island State?”

“Is that a school?”

“The only leading one,” he quoted.

“Then yeah, I guess I am,” I laughed. “So you go there too then.”

“Oh, no. I’m in TAFE, but my friend’s just starting year 12 over there. I’ll introduce you when she comes out.”

“That’d be great.”

A comfortable silence fell between us and my phone began to flash blue light between the gaps in my interlocked fingers. I unlocked it before reading the earliest message.

Kim, where are you? We’re just about to have lunch at Pizza Hut.

I sighed. Only Ben texts with such impeccable grammar and spelling.

0utsde c0lz,

I typed with a grin. I could just picture the crease in his brow, the knot of his eyebrows, his lips in a straight line while his eyes stare determinedly trying to decode the ridiculous text lingo that I only used when trying to piss him off. He never got text lingo. English freak.

il b dere n @ b!t

Oh, how perfectly diabolic of me.

What’s my age again?

“So where did you move here from?” Andrew said, flicking at his lighter restlessly.

“Melbourne. How about you, have you always lived here?”

He nodded, sighing. “Yep. My mum’s an Islander actually, and my dad came up here from Sydney though both his parents are Italian.”

“You ready, Andy?”

We both looked up to see a tall girl with black hair and light coffee skin. She looked down at me inquiringly with a pair of large onyx eyes.

“Sarah, this is Kim. She’s the one that moved into Mr. Callaway’s old house down Wheeler street.” Andrew informed her, standing up. I stood up too and gave her a little wave.

“Hey, nice to meet you,” she smiled, pulling one hand out of her denim shorts and taking mine.

“You too,” I replied. “Andrew said you go to Island State, I’m starting there on Monday.”

“Oh cool,” she grinned.

There was another pulse of light from between my fingers and I gave the text a little glance over before shoving the phone into my pocket.

“It was nice meeting both of you but I gotta go,” I said.

“Well, I’ll see you around,” Andrew waved as I retreated down the street.

“Yeah, I’ll see you at school,” Sarah threw in.

My ipod speakers blared Blink 182’s I fell in love with the girl at the rock show as I wriggled around in attempt at getting my skinny jeans up over my hips. Stalking over to the mirror, I picked up some mascara and applied a little to my eye liner-ed eyes. There was a knock at the door and I took the brush from my face before standing up and yelling a response.

“Yeah?” I called, softening the music.

“Can I come in?” It was Ben.

“I’m topless,” I lied.

“Well could you please put something on?”

“No.”

I heard him sigh in defeat before the sound of his footsteps began thumping down the stairs. I groaned. Why was I being such a bitch? He probably came to ask if I needed a ride or something.

Pushing the mascara back into its tube, I strode over to the door, ready to tell Ben I was decent. My fingers wrapped around the door knob as I went to pull it open. The knob made no movement; it refused to turn. Strengthening my grip, I gave the knob a hard yank before cursing Ben under my breath and bashing my fists a few times against the timber. My parents were out -there was no one in the house to come and rescue me- and I was going to be late for Sarah’s birthday party.

I was staring out one of the windows, contemplating an escape when, as if on cue, raindrops began to fall and splutter against the glass, washing away the muddy stains of previous rainy days. I groaned. We had been on the island for two months; it was now January- Thursday Island’s wettest month. Ben had picked the perfect day to pull his prank.

“Ben!” I huffed.

Science, year 7. What had they said about high temperatures and low temperatures? As an experiment, our teacher had told us to fill a glass bottle with water and leave it without its cap on in the freezer for one night. When I went down to check on my bottle the next morning, ice was pouring out of its top, even though I only filled the bottle to just below the rim. Cold temperatures make things expand. So, if I were to collect all the moisture in the air around the lock and freeze it, would the moisture expand enough to break through the timber? It was worth a try.

I slowed my breathing and worked hard to cool myself down before kneeling in front of the door and placing both hands upon the brass knob. I blew warm (ish) air around my hands to gather more moister and soon the knob began to grow a thin layer of frost. There was a click and a crack and I smiled in triumph. Shaking off the ice from my hands I gave the door a tug. It remained locked. Growling in frustration I bent down and leaned in, inspecting the lock for any sign that it had been tampered with.

My brows knotted, my teeth crunched together as I clenched my jaw in fury. The metal lock had been melted together. Stuck; soldered in high temperatures. I shuffled over to inspect the hinges; they too had been melted.

I checked the time -I was going to be at least fifteen minutes late- before grabbing a hoodie –Ben’s, for vengeance- tucking my purse and mobile phone into the elastic of my bra and heading over to the biggest window. Cold pin pricks of water dotted my face and I looked up in shock to see the window already open, a figure crouched in between its beams. The figure shook off it’s hood; I gasped and stumbled backwards, catching myself by grasping a bed post for support. Ada remained still as a statue, her violet eyes watching me in interest.

“W-what do you want?” I said, my voice faltering.

Her eyes twitched from my face to my bra, and quick as anything, her hands dove in, grabbed my phone and dropped it to the gravel driveway below. My eyes widened. What the fuck was she up to?

“What do you want?” I repeated pathetically. No, I wasn’t scared. Yes, I was petrified.

Her eyes flashed up, gaging with mine in an intense stare down. She smiled maliciously. One hand grasping the window frame, she leaned in slowly. Her free hand reached forward and snatched at Ben’s hoodie, bringing me so close I could smell the strange, intoxicating perfume of her breath. Her nails dug into my flesh and I felt the thickness of blood spilling down into my belly button. The anger in her grip burned as much as the wound. My heart stopped; I thought she was going to fling me out the window. Craning forward past my face, her lips stopped at my ear. The heat of her pulsed into me, creating condensation on my forehead and beneath my bottom lip.

“Stay away from him.” She whispered, before thrusting her arm out and flinging me to the ground with supernatural strength.

I lay there, gaping as she slammed the window shut and began soldering it to the sill. I watched hopelessly as the metal glowed amber and began changing state. I watched her disappear and the metal of the window cool, fastening it to the house- fastening me to the house.

I scrambled up, grabbed the lamp from beside my bed and lifted it high above my head, ready to toss it into the glass. There was a creek, a loud, deep, moan and a thump. Placing the lamp back down, I went to the window and pressed my forehead against the glass, feeling the heat quickly dissolve off it. Looking down at the lawn below, looking down at the broken drainpipe, lying uselessly on the lawn, I let out a terrified whimper.

And it wasn’t because all means of escape had been destroyed. It wasn’t because the destroyer was now scampering across the lawn and getting into Ben’s car. It certainly wasn’t because I was missing Sarah’s eighteenth birthday party.

It was because Ada had just displayed that we had no idea what she was capable of. She had displayed that she was up to something and proved my skeptic attitude towards her presence necessary.

Ada was up to something murderous, and it was the hairs erect on my neck, the deep, sallow feeling in my stomach and the shortness of breath, that had me preying desperately to God for Ben’s life.