Fan Fiction

Carousel (by Brendan Ritchie)

After I found the keys to the exit of this dreaded shopping centre, I opened the door, smelling the beautiful smell of actual air. It smelt like an off egg, or petrol. Something was definitely wrong out there. I closed the door and went to the breakfast bar I had been at earlier. I could hear music softly floating down from Lizzy’s sleeping area at Dymocks. She had taken to playing in there, not leaving for days, but what were days, compared to how long we had been here. It felt as if I was living another life, as if I was not inside myself, but was instead watching my every move, from somewhere above. Maybe this was what Carousel was about, maybe I had to get back inside my own head. Whatever it was, it hadn’t made itself clear.

I clambered up the escalators, long ago abandoned by the power of electricity, and slowly walked into Dymocks, looking above the dusty shelves for Lizzy, but I needn’t do it, for I could have been led to Lizzy blindfolded, such was the beauty of her music.

As I reached her, she put down the guitar, and looked up at me, gazing at the keys in my hand.
“What’s that. Nox?” Lizzy asked, pointing at the keys.
“I found them where Rocky used to sleep. He didn’t want us to get out, Lizzy,” I said bluntly, surprising her.
“No. God, we’ve got to get Taylor. This is serious Nox. When did you get them?” Lizzy asked, sitting up straight, and slowly rising from her bedding.
“Just then. I just found them,” I answered, pulling her up by the arm, “do you want me to radio her?”
“Yeah, tell her we’ll meet her at the breakfast bar. We’re getting out of there fast, Nox. Oh, and Nox, pack some things that you want, I don’t want to come back,” Lizzy commanded, taking charge.
“Sure,” I grabbed for my radio, leaving Lizzy to collect some things she had gathered over the previous period we had spent at Carousel.

Ten minutes later, all three of us were gathered at the breakfast bar, with bags packed, taking a sip of a Coke that had long passed its expiry date.
“Why didn’t he tell us?” Taylor asked, looking at us, dumbfounded.
“I don’t know,” I said, sipping at my Coke, “I don’t think we should leave just yet. Leave it a week. There’s more to find out. Surely Rocky left us something, a little clue. He knew he was dying.”


After minutes of arguing with Lizzy, we all headed off to Myers, where we unpacked, and laid down some bedding. We had agreed to stay for five days, then Lizzy was going to head out of here. I had a sneaking suspicion that she was going to attempt to leave before that, but we’d cross that bridge when we got to that. As for me, I had a lot to do in five days. I didn’t know where to start…