Easter was always a big deal in my house, but not the fun kind of big.
No chocolate egg hunts. No oversized plush bunnies. No lazy mornings or colourful decorations.
For my parents, Easter wasn't about that stuff. It was about Jesus. About God. About the church. Always church.
I'd been sitting in the same seat for what felt like forever, my back stiff and legs numb, while the preacher droned on about resurrection and grace. I stared at the stained glass windows, counting how many times I'd seen the same light filtering through them on Sundays, special masses, baptisms, and holidays.
Too many to count.
Don't get me wrong. I respect it. I really do. But sometimes it felt like there was no space for me in all of it.
I couldn't dress the way I wanted. Couldn't hang out with half my friends. Couldn't even think about going out without hearing some long speech about "falling into temptation."
So, yeah. Sometimes I needed to escape.
Right on cue, my phone buzzed in my lap, screen dimmed and hidden beneath the sleeve of my cardigan. I tilted it up just enough to read the message:
Dion- Hey, wanna come out with Lena, Tia and me and try something new?
A grin tugged at the corner of my mouth. Of course, Dion picked Easter Sunday to get into something dodgy.
I glanced at the pulpit, then down at my phone again.
You know what?
Fuck it.
I leaned toward my mum, who was still hanging on every word the preacher said.
"Hey Mum," I whispered. "I forgot I've got a shift at work. They called me in last minute, I've got to go."
She barely turned her head, just nodded and whispered, "Alright, be safe."
She didn't even ask which shift or if I needed a lift.
Mum didn't know I had the day off. Hell, I had tomorrow off too.
I slipped out of the seat, phone in my pocket, boots echoing softly across the church's stone floor.
Outside, the cool air hit me like a blessing.
I exhaled, half laughing, half relieved, and pulled out my phone.
Me- I'm coming.
Dion- Hehehe, that's what she said.
I rolled my eyes so hard I thought they'd get stuck.
The fact that Dion was both proudly gay and still acting like a 12-year-old eshay made him impossible not to love.
He sent his location, and I followed it, earbuds in, walking away from the church and toward freedom.
The walk took me to the edge of town, near the riverbank, where I found a clearing I'd never even noticed before, tucked away behind a line of trees, totally hidden from the road.
A faded picnic blanket was laid out in the grass.
Lena waved as soon as she saw me.
"Hey there, girl!" she called with that bright, mischievous grin of hers.
Tia smiled too, legs crossed, hair bundled into a loose puff of curls.
Dion was lounging back like some prince, sunglasses perched on his nose and a drawstring bag beside him.
There was no sign of Phoebe, thank god.
I dropped to the grass with a sigh. "God, church was so long today."
"Oh, baby," Dion purred, already digging through his bag. "You're about to experience a whole different kind of spiritual awakening."
He pulled out a small, crinkled plastic bag, the unmistakable smell of weed immediately filling the air around us.
"Top tier shit," he declared proudly. "None of that cheap crap from the servo. This is the real deal."
I raised an eyebrow. "You sure it's not oregano?"
Tia snorted, and Lena burst out laughing. Dion looked mock-offended.
"I'll have you know," he said, holding up the bag like it was a sacred relic, "this came from the very depths of our dealer's backpack. It is blessed."
I let out a long breath, looking up at the soft blue sky through the trees.
Maybe this wasn't holy in the traditional sense…
But out here, with my friends, free of judgment, laughter in the air and sunlight on my skin?
This felt pretty damn close to divine.
~~~
The smoke curled lazily into the air around us, like it didn't have a care in the world, and honestly, neither did we. It drifted over the riverbank, mixing with the scent of eucalyptus trees and damp grass. The sunlight had shifted to that soft gold glow, the kind that made everything feel cinematic.
Tia was laughing so hard she looked like she might actually pass out.
She'd collapsed backward onto the picnic blanket, one arm thrown across her stomach like it might hold her together. Her legs stretched out, toes wiggling in the grass, like she'd melted into the earth itself. Her eyes were squinted shut, tears sliding down her cheeks, her laugh rasping and wheezy like a dying kettle.
Across from her, Dion was caught in an endless loop of failure. He was halfway through trying to rip a cone from the scratched-up old bong he'd proudly brought along, scratched, dented, and possibly older than all of us combined. Every time he flicked the lighter, his face would twist into a grin he couldn't control, and he'd burst into fits of giggles, the flame flickering out before it even touched the bowl.
"Dion, focus!" Lena wheezed, doubling over as she slapped him lightly on the arm.
"I am focused," Dion gasped, trying and failing to look serious. "This is just... high-level multitasking!"
That sent Tia and me into fresh peals of laughter, our bodies shaking as we collapsed into each other, gasping like we'd just run a marathon. I was laughing so hard my cheeks hurt and my stomach felt tight from the effort, but I didn't care. This was the kind of moment you wanted to bottle. The kind that made everything else feel... lighter.
I sat up slowly, still giggling, brushing strands of hair out of my face as I tried to catch my breath. The sky was a soft, bruised orange, the sun sinking lower behind the trees. Everything felt warmer, softer, like the edges of the world had been blurred just enough to make it all a little more beautiful.
"This... is so fucking fun..." I murmured through a breathy laugh, wiping the corner of my mouth with the sleeve of my hoodie.
A single blade of grass caught my eye—long, green, curling slightly at the tip. I picked it without thinking, rolling it between my fingers, then wrapping it gently around my pinkie. For some reason, it clung there, curling in on itself like it was alive.
I stared at it, mesmerised, giggling softly.
"Hey guys," I called, holding up my hand like I'd discovered something miraculous, "the grass is hugging my pinkie."
Tia cackled from her spot on the blanket. "Demi, are you serious?"
"No, like.... look at it!" I turned my hand slowly, grinning like a kid showing off a magic trick.
Lena leaned in, squinting. "It's... like... moving."
"Oh, we're hella high," Dion laughed, his head falling back as he finally gave up on the bong, setting it down with a dramatic sigh of surrender.
I laughed again, but quieter this time. I let the moment stretch out around me. The distant sound of cicadas humming. The soft rustle of the wind through the trees. My friends laying around me like fragments of some perfect, untroubled life. I didn't want it to end. I didn't want to go home.
But eventually, it always ended.
~~~
I climbed through my bedroom window with the skill of someone who'd done it too many times before. I landed softly on the carpet, heart still racing. I didn't even let myself exhale until I was fully inside and the window was shut.
Mum thought I was still at work. The lie sat heavy in my throat, but I told it anyway. Again.
I moved quickly, silently. My room was dim, curtains drawn, the faint glow of my fairy lights painting soft gold across the walls. I grabbed the deodorant can off my dresser and practically drenched myself in it, wincing at the strong chemical cloud as I sprayed my hoodie, the cuffs of my jeans, even the tips of my hair.
The smell of weed still clung faintly beneath the artificial scent, like smoke buried under cheap cologne. But it'd have to do. I couldn't risk Mum sniffing me out. One whiff and I'd be grounded for eternity, probably with a full-blown lecture about sin and self-respect and how Jesus never smoked marijuana.
I paused in front of my mirror. My cheeks were flushed, eyes were still a little glassy. I blinked at myself. I looked... happy. Tired, but happy. That probably wouldn't last long.
Crossing my room, I reached for the tiny green watering can I kept on my bookshelf, then crouched beside the windowsill where my flowers sat. Pansies, mostly. A few daisies. Some little succulents I rescued from Woolies months ago.
They always looked fine. Thriving, even. No matter how long I left them alone, whether it was a week or a day, they never wilted. It was weird, honestly. But comforting too.
I tipped the watering can gently over their roots, humming under my breath as the soil soaked it in. These flowers were my secret. My tiny rebellion. Something I could care for on my own terms, in my own world.
Maybe the grass hugging my pinkie had been a joke. Or maybe... maybe it hadn't. Maybe nature was trying to tell me something.
Or maybe I was just really, really high.