ERROL PARKER | Editor-at-large | Contact
At Betoota Central’s Remienko Coach Station this morning, Ashton Mallory took one last look at her hometown before stepping onto the bus to Melbourne, a place she believes will finally appreciate her non-conformity and penchant for being different.
Draped in her signature black trench coat and combat boots, the 17-year-old paused on the steps of the coach to watch her former classmates gathered on the Town Hall steps. The so-called “cool kids” were smoking weed and drinking from chubby Fat Little Lamb longnecks, laughing like they had nowhere else to be. A sight Ashton had outgrown long ago.
“This town only values people who fit in,” Ashton said quietly, casting a final glance at Betoota Heights, the suburban NPC outpost of Betoota she’d called home.
“In Melbourne, they celebrate people like me. People who aren’t afraid to be themselves. I hope. Unlike here, where being different gets you laughed at during assembly.”
Ashton’s time in Betoota Heights, and the occasional trips to the French Quarter, our town’s cosmopolitan heart, had done little to satisfy her longing for something bigger. Despite the boutique thrift shops, non-English speakers and closeted gay people popping up in the French Quarter, she had long felt disconnected, describing it as “regional people pretending they’re worldly.”
“I’m not wasting another second here. Fuck this place. Melbourne has more people, different people, and live music besides . There’s a future for me there,” she said, adding that she has no plans to ever return to Betoota.
Her former classmates seemed blissfully unaware of her departure. As Ashton watched them from the coach, Ben LeBong paused mid-drag of his grey market cigarette to ask, “Who’s that?”
With one final sigh, Ashton boarded the bus and settled into her seat, staring ahead at the open road.
“I’m never coming back here again.”
More to come.
