BLACK CARAVAN

Exhibit A - Joy

People are often praised, loathed or just eliminated from being important enough to either be praised or loathed. We all put different masks on everyday in front of different people, because believe it or not we have the ability to choose who praises us and who loathes us. We have many talents and abilities, all of which make us feel powerful, however controlling our feelings and emotions is not one of them.

Hi, my name is Joy. I have noticed that my presence usually brings people delight. I try immensely hard to maintain the cheerful attitude and to encourage people to stay optimistic. Unfortunately, people like my closest friend Sorrow aren't always in the mood to jump up and down and sing a cheerful song with me. My whole life I've been feeling like a tool to make other people happy, but even I have my limits.

Me and Sorrow both live in a cozy trailer park only a single kilometre away from a popular tourist location- Flinders Bay. We're both homeschooled which makes her my only friend. And our trailer park is filled with a bunch of retired elders which makes living in a trailer park a hundred times more agonising. I live here with my infuriating and overprotective dad and my lucky friend Sorrow lives here with her older step-brother. Unfortunately for me he never leaves his trailer, I've been living here for almost 5 years and I've only ever seen him once. ONCE! Sorrow says I'm not allowed inside her trailer because her brother doesn't like guests, I wonder what they're hiding in there. Their windows are covered in ancient newspapers, enough for the sunlight to pass through, but not a single hole for me to peep through. A few years ago her brother wanted to paint their trailer black, and that was the only time I've ever seen his mysterious, but well proportioned face. Even though they weren't blood related, him and Sorrow both had elegantly straight noses and caramel hair.

Our trailer was all the way on the other side of the trailer park and we had a lonely 52-year-old lady living next door who claims to be a fortune teller. Each morning I slipped into my waterproof bunny shaped slippers, made two cups of coffee and sprinted joyfully across the trailer park to Sorrow's so we could tell each other about the dreams we dreamt and then pay a visit to the fortune teller lady to figure out what those dreams meant. But not today. This morning Sorrow didn't answer the door, her brother did. He swung the rusty steel door open startling me so much, my coffee cup unwillingly flew out of my trembling hand and ended up all over his pants. I culpably smiled at him hoping to apologise, but he dramatically slammed the door in my face before I could even gulp.