Gleaming down on me, the sun roasted my skin like a marshmallow on a campfire and my feet charred in the scorching, red dirt around me that enveloped all land as far as the eye could see. The lofty, metal clothesline cast many reedy lines over the ground and the bronzed skin of my two siblings who sat in front of me. I watched as two drops of sweat travelled down my arm, it reminded me of the race that I had just won against my babana and djurumin. The neighbourhood was strangely quieter today than usual but it didn’t seem to bother us. Regaining our energy, we sat outside swigging small glasses of tepid badu, preparing ourselves for another game. We were to play hide and seek next. Placing our glasses down on the table, we paused to decide who would be ‘it’ in our first game. As we came to a decision, the fun was put on hold when our Wiyanga rushed out of the house and demanded that we come inside immediately, her usually joyful voice now sounded tense and uneasy. Almost immediately, we stood up and began the gloomy walk to the front door when thunderous noises came from behind me and all of the dirt where we had sat was suddenly lifted up from the ground in an immense garaguru of red smoke. From this dust arose a copious number of figures. These figures were hefty, square-shaped containers that after further observation seemed to be carrying people, but not just any people. They were Gubba. Forcing us into the bathroom, my Wiyanga locked the door behind us. Did she want to play hide and seek too? She could have just asked. Waiting around for a while, my siblings and I became curious of the events occurring beyond the thick wooden door that blocked our view. Placing our heads against the door in an attempt to hear any sort of sound that could give us a clue as to what was going on, we heard our Wiyanga scream. There were many continuous bangs and yells until all of a sudden, there was silence. This silence brought us both hope and worry. We hoped our Wiyanga was ok, but what if she wasn’t? Attempting to see the brighter side of things, we were ready to leave the bathroom, past the locked door, assuming our Wiyanga awaited us on the other side. Just as we had hoped, the door’s lock began to open. Exhilaration engulfed my body, filling it with warmth like a hot chocolate on a cold day. But I was wrong. A tall figure emerged, his eyes were the gross green of a swamp and his hair was brown like tree bark. But there was one feature about him that throughout my life, I had learned to dislike. He was gubba. Followed by many other maiyal who looked almost identical to him, he down leant in front of us and reached for my arm. Lifting me into the air, he carried me out of the bathroom. Whilst trying to break free, I saw each of my siblings being carried away too, screaming and punching in their attempt to break free. Leaving the house, I was horrified, pinned down on the porch by three more gubbas, was my Wiyanga. I wanted to break free of this maiyal’s grasp, I needed to help my dyinuragang, but this thoorgala was too strong. Wrapping one hand round my legs, the other my arms and torso, he had complete control over me. He carried me to one of the strange vehicles. It was short and box-like with a shiny black coating, the top was covered in windows and underneath were four round dish-like objects that seemed to hold it above the ground. Ramming me into the room on wheels, he locked me in and it started to move, the house slowly left my view, so did my mudjin. Arriving at an outlandish house, nothing like the one I was accustomed to, the thoorgalas yelled a strange gibberish that I couldn’t understand. Pulling my hand, they dragged me inside where a petite, plump dyin stood at the door waiting. Feeling trapped, all I wished for was to go home. To return to my Wiyanga. But this was expected to be my home now, with the gubba, never to see my mudjin again. Translation: