She'd shown it to me when I’d expressed interest in the illustrations.
I’d asked her where she'd found such a magical tale.
No surprise that I’d been drawn to a story like that.
One where the poorest kid in town had escaped from his drab existence.
He’d been given a chance to create a new life. A colourful, wonderful life.
If Charlie Bucket can win a golden ticket, then maybe there’s hope for me too.
But first, I will surround myself with books.
That always seems to help when I’m feeling vulnerable.
I need a refuge of sorts.
Somewhere I can plot and plan.
Somewhere I can hide in case my dad has convinced the cops to search this far.
If he’s even bothered to search at all.
One silver lining of poverty and addiction is that Ray won’t get very far.
And he certainly wouldn't waste precious slot machine or beer money finding me.
Probably happy that he has one less mouth to feed.
The further away I run from that house, the more certain I feel.
I’ve made the right choice.
Perhaps someone at the library can tell me how to get to Brisbane.
I still have my heart set on seeing the beach.
And that enormous city with all those towers made of glass.
Maybe I’ll wear a suit and tie now that I’m gonna be a city boy.
Yep, that's where I’ll go.
This town has bus stops.
And buses probably go to beaches.
Still can’t quite get my head around the size of this place.
All these roads and roundabouts are starting to look the same.
I’ve never been in a town where you can’t see the edge of it from every corner.
A town where you can walk past any house and not know who lives there.
I think I like this feeling.
It’s new to me.
