This Is How We Change the Ending by Vikki Wakefield

This Is How We Change the Ending by Vikki Wakefield

Author:Vikki Wakefield [Wakefield, Vikki]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Young Adult
ISBN: 9781922268136
Google: upCYDwAAQBAJ
Amazon: B07RWDZKK8
Goodreads: 36189794
Publisher: Text Publishing
Published: 2019-09-03T00:00:00+00:00


FIFTEEN

We’re all glued to the Channel Nine news. Every available chair, beanbag, box, table—even a stack of Mim’s magazines—has been dragged in front of the TV. I count around twenty kids, not including Macy, Mim and Thomas.

No Tash. Guilty by dissociation.

‘Shut up! Everybody sit down and shut up!’ Macy leans so far forward her chin is almost on her knees.

The reporter I ran into a couple of hours ago is on the TV, standing near the end of the wall outside Youth.

‘Rumours of the closure of YouthWorks, a popular youth centre in Rowley Park, have prompted teens to protest by vandalising a local landmark.’

A photo of the original mural is displayed on the screen.

‘Sometime last night this mural, designed by a well-known artist, was defaced.’

Then it switches to a shot of the wall as it is now.

‘Locals are at a loss to explain how this could have happened near a busy main road without any witnesses. We asked youth worker Macy Blair to comment on the vandalism.’

Macy appears. With her shaved head and tatts, she looks like a member, not the director.

‘This is their centre. If they want to use it to protest something that directly affects them, then I call that a good use of space.’

‘Do you know who’s responsible?’

‘No, I don’t.’

We all cheer and clap.

The camera shows Macy heading back inside the centre. As she closes the door on the camera-person, she sticks out her pierced tongue.

‘God, they made me look like I did it,’ Macy says, holding her head in her hands.

‘Agnes Butcher, a Rowley Park resident for over forty years, disagrees.’

We groan. Agnes lives across the road and every week she lodges a complaint about noise. It’s probably her who throws stones at the court lights. She’s clutching her hand-bag in front of her. Her voice is low and quivery, nothing like the razorblades-on-glass pitch she saves for us when we’re scrimmaging.

‘It’s disgusting. They’ve fouled their own nest. My taxes pay for this and all those entitled brats do is destroy it. If they don’t paint over it soon, I’ll do it myself.’

‘Fuck, Agnes, we’re not gonna steal your pension,’ I say.

‘Two sides, remember?’ Macy cautions. ‘She’s old and alone and probably scared.’

‘The local member of parliament, Robert Down, has responded by saying: “Peaceful protest is a basic right of democracy, but destructive, violent behaviour only damages their cause. I suggest these young persons find a way to get their message across without upsetting the people who hold this decision in their hands. It could be argued these methods invite condemnation, rather than support.”’

‘Robert Down,’ someone says. ‘Bob Down. Get it?’

‘What violence?’ Mim cuts in. ‘I didn’t see anyone throwing punches. They don’t even mention why the centre is being closed—because an adult with no affiliation was violent, and there’s no funding for security. It’s one-sided reporting.’

‘The council says the vandalism will be cleaned up in the coming days. The teens affected are noticeably silent on the matter.’

The camera pans to me as I put my hand up and walk away, muttering, ‘No comment.



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