I thought I’d know what to say when this moment came. You spend so much time trying to fit pivotal experiences into a few words you hope conveys the emotion and life within; but what do you do when you’re speechless? When something is so intense, words don’t come close to capturing what’s before you.
That was how high school graduation felt.
Now I knew it was coming, of course I did. I counted down the seconds every time I was troubled with an assignment, every time I was trapped in a room of screaming kids drilling deafening noise into my ears, and every time I would stare out the stained windows wondering what was to come when it was my time to step out.
And here I am now. In line to walk up onto the lit-up stage, the one I spent years dancing and laughing on, to finally see where all those years led me.
So why do I feel like that light is illuminating something more? The stage lights feel warmer than before, almost intrusive; as if it’s projecting everything I tried not to think about. What it took to get here. What I might lose.
I think of the amber skies creeping in through the window during the last classes of the day, reflecting off my friends’ bright smiles when laughing about things that felt so small but so large in my heart. I think of the sunny lunch times where everyone sat in a circle relaying their day and playing catch, the joy of the moment caught in the sunlight in their hair. And most of all, I think about how ready each and every one was for this day. How their futures shone through them, begging to be released from the cracks of the school to finally have a chance to shine the way they are supposed to. I thought I was like that too. But I guess their hypnotising light blinded me from recognising I had none of my own.
What if I pick something and realise I made the wrong choice? There are so many possibilities to the point they stretch out so far that I see nothing at all. I like writing, but is that what I’m meant to do? Does it fuel me with energy when I’m tired? Does it ignite something in me like it seems to for everyone else? Could I even make it a career?
The line is shortening, pushing more people off to the edge of their freedom. My heart starts to thump, turning the excitement into something closer to dread. Making the line in front of me feel like walking down the plank to awaiting sharks in pirate tales.
I want to run away. I want to run to the light outside with my friends, complaining about school and laughing the trivial things away. I want to feel safe again.
I feel the weight of someone looking at me from behind, although it doesn’t match the intensity consuming me. It feels gentle, like something warm. I turn around.
It’s Nancy.
When my eyes connect to hers that pool with blue and green, it feels like something snaps into place. Like every cloudy thought drifts away, revealing the reality of the sky and how it’s always present. I cling to her gaze, fearing the feeling may leave me. She doesn’t say anything – she just looks at me with a tender smile, steady and calm. Her eyes remind me of what I already know. All the nervous conversations we had before and how they always ended with clarity. How believing in the best, that everything will be okay, that the dreams forming in my head will be there to guide and evolve me, is the most real thing I can have.
The words she told me one night in particular at a sleepover, after another endless ramble of my fears interrupted her sleep, instantly come to my mind. As if she telepathically sent them with just a look:
“Do you know why people say ‘dare to dream?’ It is because when you put faith into something, when you dive off that cliff hoping to find a landing, you don’t truly know if there really is one. But when you dare to believe that there is something down there, you have already gone further than everyone still at the top.”
The person in front of me is called now. It rings in the air like a bell starting a boxing match, although at least now I feel like I have some boxing gloves. My stance feels stronger, and I turn and lock eyes with the light on the stage.
A part of me still just wants to cling onto Nancy and hide away. To make my friend take my place so I don’t have to face that the credits are truly rolling on this chapter. For some fire to break out so the graduation ceremony can be held later.
I know that can’t happen, and I know above all else that I’m ready. The warm light reminds me. It reminds me of the laughs, the annoyances, and the troubles of school; but it also reminds me of how those memories will never truly leave. That those gold embers that formed through the warm memories of the past will light up my future.
I don’t know what’s out there for me. I barely have a clue on what I’m going to do tomorrow.
“Jessica Rowlings.”
But I know I will dare myself to keep going. To dream.
I walk on stage.
I grab my certificate.
The cheers of parents and family echo out as I walk off.
I did it.
When I walk to the exit, I see cracks of light, golden light, lining the old door. I take a shaky breath and reach for the handle.
When I open it, light spills across my face. I step forward before my nerves catch up.
Because I took the leap. 

I take a deep breath and look over the crowd of people.
“Yes, she had a… rough childhood. She often felt like she wasn’t loved, she always wondered whether she was good enough. In return, she loved everyone else fiercely, so that no-one ever felt the way she did. She toughened up on the outside, but she was soft and tender underneath her skin. People often talk about a friendly face hiding a dark soul, but she was more of a sheep in wolf’s clothing. In this way, she was like the sea…
“She was the sea. She lived like she was wild. She was brave and loyal. She was scary when she stood up for those she loved, and she loved everyone. She was a kind sea. The sort of ocean that saved people rather than drowned them. Not the merciless whirlpools or monstrous tidal waves; she was the blue lagoon in a world of storms.
“She often called me her anchor when she found herself in the eye of these storms. She would say that I held her fast, that I was her rock. Part of me didn’t believe that she would need an anchor – she had survived those years between thirteen and twenty-one, the years in which one faces the most pressure. She was the one who calmed the hurricane of this world down, she was the anchor in everyone else’s storm. The other part of me knew that it was hard work being loving to everyone, that, some days, she would need a shoulder to cry on. She always said Be kind to everyone. Not because they’re nice, but because you are. I always replied You don’t need to save everybody. You can just rescue yourself.
“She did actually rescue me as well. I think, as men, we often think that it is our job to save the damsel in distress. For what is a queen without her king? Well, historically speaking, more powerful. She radiated a sort of power that gave her a glow, like a photo taken with backlight. Just one word from her could silence an army if she wanted. If she wished, she could have made that army turn and bow down to her. I always admired that power, because she never used it so people would worship her. She would stop a bully picking on another, or she would quell a fight with little more than a stern look. She never expected anything in return, she never even turned a hair towards recognition, yet even those who hated her would secretly praise her.
“She was the one who taught me that you can’t hate someone you never cared about in the first place. Rich, coming from the girl who cared for everyone but herself. But I saw her point. And, really, that made my life a whole lot happier. It is because of her that I realised that I didn’t have to hate the grumpy shop owner just because, or despise that one bus driver because he missed my stop. I couldn’t hate them, and a weight was lifted off my shoulders.
“After years of waiting, of mustering up enough courage to finally do so, I asked her to marry me. She was well out of my league, she was out of everyone’s league, but still, she said yes.
“I never imagined that when she came down the aisle, it would be in a coffin.
“It was an accident. A truck driver came way too fast, and she managed to save an old lady, but she did not rescue herself, the one thing I asked her to do. I was not there, but I can imagine the scene all too well. The old lady was crossing the road, focussed on her steps, oblivious to the truck hurtling down the narrow street. She noticed, though. She ran out in front of the truck, pushing the old lady out of the way. I always imagine the next bit in slow motion. By then, she knew it was too late. At least she knew that she had saved everyone but herself. She turned so she was facing the truck driver head-on. I don’t know whether the truck driver didn’t notice her or he couldn’t brake or neither, whether it did not even occur to him that he would have to stop, but I don’t hate him for what happened next. I didn’t care about him in the first place, after all.
“Today, we’re here to remember her. But I don’t want to remember her the way she died. I want to remember her the way she lived.”

31/5/2025
“Good boy Titan.” I unclip his halter and pull it off his head, for a brief moment, he stands there with me, then he turns and strolls away down the pasture, snorts and puts his head down to graze. Back at the stable I get to work mucking Titan's stall, when Mum comes bursting in.
"The Neighbor just came over, they said there is a grassfire down the road, and it’s out of control, his family are leaving, and your father's not answering his phone, and...”
I told her to calm down, and go pack anything we needed and I'd ride down with Titan and find Dad.
“But he’s right down the back of the bush and you need to pack too,  I better just call him again.”
“No, I’ll go find him.” I dropped my shovel and pushed past Mum, grabbing my helmet from the tack room and running out the door before Mum could stop me.
***
I slow as I reach Titan's paddock. I unclip his halter from the gate, he looks up, I call his name and duck under the fence. He trots over and parks himself by my side, hastily I fasten his halter, fumbling with the rope to make reins, I clip my helmet on and walk him to the fence, hoisting myself up onto the rail, and slide onto his back. I push the gate open and we’re off. I kick Titan into a canter beneath me, we stick to the track ducking and weaving around branches, the wind blowing strongly. We turn onto the path leading to the dam.
Dad had driven out that morning to seed a new paddock for Titan, but he’d be anywhere by now. Suddenly Titan hears something, he pricks his ears and quickens his pace. I can hear Brumby’s (the old ute’s) engine chugging along, and within seconds I see her face pop up over the hill. I pull up, the Brumby rolls to a stop and Dad jumps out.
By now Titan's sides are heaving and so are mine.
"What's wrong?” Dad asks.
"There's a bushfire up the road and we need to go now!”
“Oh great, you ride back up and help Mum, I’ll be right behind you.” Dad jumps back in the Brumby, I turn Titan off the track, clucking him back into a canter we take a shortcut through the trees. Behind us I hear the Brumby roaring into the distance.
***
Back at the house Mum is frantically loading up her tiny car with junk. When she sees us, she drops it all to the floor and runs over. “Oh finally, I was getting worried. Did you find Dad?” she bursts out but before I can answer the Brumby revs up into the yard and Mum dashes over.
I slide off Titan and throw him in his stall, I hastily untie his lead rope, I run to the feed room and pull out Titan's travel bags chucking in his saddle, bridle, the first aid kits, a spare halter and rope, my helmet and boots and grab a bale of hay, a bag of feed and Titan's buckets, I then stuff a hay net for the float and fill his water canister. Titan's watching me the whole time, I give him a reassuring pat.
I sprint as fast as I can to the house where I pack a few essentials into a small bag. Dad has repacked and sorted Mum's disarray of bags, hitched up the float and packed all of Titan's stuff.
I throw my bag in and jog back over to Titan's stable. He whinnies at me anxiously, he can feel everyone is stressed, I clip his lead back on, talking to him softly. I lead him back out into the breeze and walk him straight up and onto the float, luckily, he loads well despite the atmosphere. Dad closes the ramp, and I jump in the car. We pull out the gate and steadily trundle along 'til we reach the highway.
***
After what feels like forever, we pull off the dirt road and onto a well-maintained driveway that stretches for about a kilometer. I can hear Titan stomping in the back – he can see where we are through the float window. We pull up in front of an old farm house. A Pitbull barks out the front, his name is Jupiter. We all jump out of the car just as the front door opens and out comes Mika, she jumps onto me and clings like a leech. I laugh and squeeze her back, she hops down and lets Jupiter have a turn at jumping on me, then she helps me unload Titan who is eager to get out of the float now he knows where he is.
We walk him over to the old cow barn where luckily there are still some shavings from last time. The poor guy is a bit frazzled. I lead him in and leave Mika to fuss while I grab his things from the car. By the time I've heaved everything into the shed Titan's had a good roll, a sponge and a drink and is looking at me eagerly for food. Mika and I giggle and I heave a hay net over the stall wall.
***
It's now night time and I'm curled up on the floor next to Mika’s bed, I begged Mum to let me sleep in the shed with Titan but she said, “After the day's events, you’re dreaming.”
I gave him his dinner at 7pm and did a 'final check' but I still crept out with a carrot before I hopped into bed to make sure he was settled. He was dozing with his head over the door, eyes closed and lip drooping!
​***
Mum had called around, and apparently the CFS have the fire under control but no one knows how close it is to our property; she says hopefully there will be more news in the morning.

Once upon a time there was a little fluffy pretty dog. The dog’s name was Valentina the Great.
Valentina loved wildflowers. She lived on a farm in the corner of a soft barn.
One day she went for her weekly stroll to find lovely wildflowers and found a pink and purple sparkly striped plant. She ate it because it looked so beautiful and juicy but it was poisonous and Valentina did not know that. She felt dizzy and fainted, but her friends came along and gave her a big cup of water and fanned her with a really big leaf.  
She learnt not to eat plants she had never ever seen before.