Then it all came crashing down...

The hotdog was the last straw. It should be illegal for something to be that expensive, to taste that bad. As the fatty aftertaste started to settle in, I decided enough was enough! Yes The Festival is all right, but when you spend eight hours listening to the same monotonous drone that some people describe as music and watch the same kids squeal on the rollercoaster, it is enough to drive you insane. 

The Festival is designed in a way to make use of every available space. Every year, it is held on Winter’s Paddock during summer. Dotted around the paddock are long arching red river gums, their branches towering high into the sky dominating the landscape. In the centre of the paddock, is the huge Lake Winter. A gigantic mass of water, it is one kilometer’s long and three wide pile of filth. During The Festival, it is the venue for the brave and bold in the annual Jet Ski race. What makes this race so challenging and so memorable are the obstacles and the severity of the injuries. Algae covers the surface, disguising the various logs and corrugated iron sheets that dot the surface. Last year, there was three broken legs, a smashed collarbone and a fractured skull. This however, doesn't deter people from racing. It also smells disgusting, lacing your clothes with a smell that not even a can of deodorant can mask. The rides and stalls of The Festival are focussed on the east side of the lake, while the west side of the lake is home to a massive carpark, bus terminal and train station ready to cater for the 100,000 plus people that visit The Festival. This teemed with the roaring wind that thunders down the from Mt Scarlet, plus the ever looming grey clouds that promised the long awaited downfall, it wasn't my idea of a perfect afternoon. 

I looked at the big clock, that was on top of the main stage. Oh crap I thought, it is 5:00. In order to get home before the crowd I had to leave now. I didn’t want to be stuck in the same situation as last year. The claustrophobic feeling still gave me nightmares! My headache, which had started as faint throb, was now was more painful then annoying. I could see the shade of the clouds slowly turn darker and darker as the day passed indicating that the massive storm that BOM had predicted was closer to happening. “THE BIGGEST STORM IN A HUNDRED YEARS!” I didn’t believe them at all. We were in an El Nino cycle and it hadn't rained to two months. I could almost feel the fierceness of the heat, every breath that I took parched my tongue and cracked my lips. However, the sky was a dark grey bringing hope that maybe, just maybe we could get the rain that we yearned for.  I was brought back to reality as the wind started whipping into my face, leaving me with the taste of acrylic paint and burnt rubber on my tongue. So much for the “Capital of Fun” I thought. However, people were streaming in to witness the spectacle that was the fireworks, not caring about the looming clouds or the vicious wind. Which was exactly why I wanted to leave now.

I looked around for Dan, but as usual he was nowhere to be found. Dan was a ladies man; he never failed in hooking up with some girl whenever he went. In fact, his nickname as the “Ladies Lad,” wasn’t too far off the truth. Girls loved Dan. With his blonde mop of hair and piercing blue eyes that almost paralyzed you with their stare (not to mention his toned arms and huge pecs), girls were tripping over him, literally. I however was the comedian, the guy who nobody took seriously. People laughed at me, and I laughed with them. Dan was the main culprit, making fun of me to gain the attention that he craved.  I was tempted to go home without him, but he and I had forged a friendship over time and I didn't want to be only on the long train ride back to Morville. Ah well I thought, I’ll call him. He'd better answer his phone! I dialed the number and waited...

“This is Dan and it seems that I am doing something far more important then answering your call at the moment, please leave a message.” That is strange I thought, he always answers his phone. Maybe he was too busy snogging some chick from the city I thought. I called his number again.

“This is Dan and it seems that I am doing something far more important then answering your call at the moment, please leave a message.” He must be snogging that chick I thought ruefully to myself. I was jealous of Dan, but most of the guys in Fingal were. Ah well I thought, I’ll try one more time,

“Ring ring, ring ring, ring ring.”

Suddenly the ringing stopped and was replaced with a distraught voice,

”Leave now Luke if you want to live!”

“Dan, don’t play this sought of practical joke, it is not funny at all.”

“In 25 seconds, this place will turn into hell, please listen to me.”

“Dan are you alright? Where are you?”

“ Please Luke, please leave!”

The phone clicked off.

I stood there, feeling a bit circumspect. Was he just playing a practical joke? Or was he actually in trouble? I called him again, but the answering machine kept playing. I tried again, same response. As this was happening, my headache was getting worse, the pounding feeling was almost unbearable. I was trying to process the information that I had just received, but my brain was a useful as a rowboat without oars. I just needed to lie down, to sleep. As I stumbled towards the first aid centre, the first bullet flew over my head and The Festival turned to hell.