As soon as I arrived in Australia, I felt lifeless, abandoned and isolated. The aura was down putting and the landscape was just unbearable. Where my family and I lived, there were barely any trees, because they have all wilted and turned into dried sticks that erected from the ground. It is almost as if the land was cursing at me and insulting me. We were situated in the middle of nowhere, and it took quite a while to get to the nearest “real” town. That is why I decided to leave that depressing place, Frogmore, and move to Melbourne with Mitru. He had a decent house, though it was not very big, but it was still better than that crappy, decrepit, old shack back at Frogmore.

The landscape at Frogmore really made me morose and brings back scarring memories, but as long as Raimond wrote to me, I felt much better. He is probably the only light shining in my darkening life, as he is the only one who makes me feel more alive and vibrant. No one does the same as Raimond, not even my own husband Romulus. Back at Frogmore, he would often come home really late and Raimond and I wouldn’t have anything to eat for the night because I didn’t know how to cook, so we awaited for his return until we couldn’t wait any longer and fell asleep, still starving. Then there was Hora, who treated me like trash. He was worse than Romulus, as he, Hora, was a violent, impatient and careless man. When Romulus was in hospital because of a bike accident, he asked Hora to take care of me and Raimond, which turned out that Hora was only caring about Raimond and completely ignoring me. We used to have chickens, and fresh eggs, but then in a flash, Hora shot them, finished the rest that were twitching with a spade, and buried them all in a giant hole. Then there was the time when he brought back some oranges. We were both very grateful, but as soon as I went to grab one, Hora gave me the most deadly glare and said that they were for Raimond.

You see, living in Australia is the same as living in a very large prison, just that the bars have been replaced by the daunting aura of emptiness. I am trapped within a place that I am foreign to, and it is unescapable. This aura then made me mentally ill and often very depressed. I didn’t eat, drink, and often not sleep, so I had to take sleeping pills, which I overdosed on once. Time passed and I eventually opened my eyes, only to find that I was still alive, in a hospital. Being alive didn’t really mean anything to me anymore, as of right now, being alive isn’t living, it is just not dying, so my life is practically equivalent to death.

I am telling this to you whilst sitting in my bed at Mitru’s house and wonder if my life is still worth living. I tell you this because I figure that someone needs to know my story, someone who can understand my perspective, someone who can just listen to me for god damn once. So right now, I would sit in bed every day and wonder when that special day would come, when I can finally be free and not be tormented by this traumatizing place. I have a window that I can stare out of, and I can watch as couples, families and children run wild and enjoy their life to the maximum potential. Then, I compare that to me, sitting here alone with a noisy ball of flesh lying next to me, crying. I have had enough of this child, why won’t it just shut up? The noise is just nauseating, but I have no energy, nor do I have the desire to even bother to try to do something about it. If Raimond does not write to me soon, then I am giving up, for the last and final time.