Writer of the Week: Tarn Elder, Year 10

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Melbourne New Year’s fireworks

The crowd roared in unison as the screen began the countdown. Ten! Nine! The boy and his family stood slightly back from the huge crowd gathered in the park. Despite being behind two trees, they still had a clear view of the sky and were easily able to move in case their view was blocked. Eight! Seven! The excitement built slowly, gradually building to a climax. Six! Five! The shouting grew, drowning out all other sounds. Four! Three! The countdown reached its final moments. Two! One! A piercing whistle preceded a loud bang that echoed through the air as the first firework exploded. 

He looked up, shocked by the first explosion. Moving quickly, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and began to film this spectacle. It was a shame it wasn’t really the new year, only 10:00 pm, but it was still an amazing display. He thought back to an earlier conversation about why they weren’t waiting until the midnight show. “That’ll be where all the drunk university students will be,” the boy’s mum had explained. The fireworks lit up the sky, perfectly framed by two trees. 

The fireworks kept exploding over the boy’s head without stopping. Looking between the trees, and above the awe-struck crowd, bright explosions and trails arcing through the sky, like colourful snakes flying through the air. Suddenly, the constant rumble of explosions ceased, leaving only a few stray lines of colour slithering down through the sky. 

The boy looked at his family, frowning and looking vaguely disappointed. “Wasn’t it supposed to be longer?” he asked. 

“It was”, his sister replied. “Around seven minutes." Anything else she was going to say was quickly drowned out by the rumble of dozens of fireworks shooting skywards and exploding. The silence had only been a brief lull before the main event, which was now illuminating the dark night sky. 

A few minutes later, when the fireworks stopped again, no-one was fooled, least of all the boy and his family. Sure enough, a few seconds later, the fireworks began again, colouring up the sky with an array of greens and pinks. After the prolonged explosions, the acrid smell of gunpowder filled the air. 

Eventually, the fireworks died away, leaving one solitary red rocket to slowly arc skywards before falling back to the ground, like the last leaf of autumn before winter. The boy and his family quickly hurried away after it fell, eager to avoid the inevitable crowds on their way out. Luckily, while bustling through the busy streets, the boy noticed their tram stop, lit up like a lighthouse in the dark night. Soon, they were aboard the No. 11 tram that carried them safely home. 

New Year’s Eve in Melbourne was over, for now.

When 12:00am on January 1st, 2026, finally rolled around, the boy and his family raced outside to see if they could spot any fireworks from the house they were staying at. Far away, on the horizon, the sky glowed gently. Pinks, reds and greens were faintly visible, the sound of their explosions echoing faintly behind them a few moments later. The New Year had finally arrived in Melbourne.