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Refuge
of achieving my goals while in the detention centre, my spirit
remains alive and I have faith that one day I will make a new and
better life for myself in Australia.
‘
Night after night, I dream that I am alone on a vast plain in the
Australian outback. I lie beneath a blanket of flowers that scatter over
my chest and gather around my neck like a garland. Occasionally the
wind whispers past and I feel the stems shift and loose petals take
flight. Above me, the sky is an incandescent crimson; beneathme, the
sunburnt land tumbles to ravines, smoothes to plains and stretches to
eternity. I raise my head and let the flowers fall; there are no wire
fences to restrict me to a designated area, no guards to glare at me
when I step beyond the confines. In my dream, my skin glows and I
feel like I am made of steel; the metal is gleaming and strong and
shines around me like starlight. I have such a feeling of lightness and
happiness that my body vibrates with power and emotion. I walk
across the coppery plain; the tangled spinifex and golden-orbed
acacias shimmer in the light. I feel the hot rush of noon hit my cheeks
and I bask in the glowing warmth of the sunset, soaking up its last
penetrating rays. Suddenly a towering cross wire fence springs from
the earth stopping me in my tracks. Limitless in height, it reaches up
to the clouds, harsh and menacing against the softness of the pink,
clouded sky. I try to break through the wire, believing thatmymetallic
skin will penetrate its defence and liberate me from the restrictions
of the detention centre. Yet I am mistaken; my steel body grows
heavy and burdensome. I feel myself sinking into the sun-parched
earth, shrinking in the shadow of the wire and succumbing to its
overbearing power and authority.
‘
I wrench myself awake from the harrowing dream, my body doused
in chilling sweat. Yet I know that each night when I close my eyes,
this same dream will envelop me. It is my faith and optimism
conflicting with the hopelessness of my situation that throws my
mind into torment. It has been a year since I arrived on Christmas
Island and I have not yet found placement inAustralia. As I lie beside
Quyen, my body nestled against hers, I think of Truong. I yearn for
his clear, pure voice to transcend the miasma of anguish clouding my
mind and to imbue my heart with warmth and comfort. Quyen sighs,
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