“I’m a boy. And always will be. It’s just the way it is. This skin I squeeze, this skin I harm, with cuts upon my wrist, my arms, it isn’t hers - it’s his.”

The new prime minister sauntered into the big office. Its lush furnishing of taxpayer huon pine reflected his cheshire grin. The big chair was still warm from the bum print of the last guy who’d been booted to the curb in a vengeful coup.

Upon his desk sat a laundry list of leftie propaganda: power prices were too high, the cost of living yadda yadda, farmers were complaining about cows or rain or something, the big, beautiful banks were copping a bad rap for being super awesome at making bumloads of cash. It was all redundant background noise.

“I need to do something important with my position,” he whispered to himself. “I’m a powerful man, I can make Australia great again. I should tell my people I’m glad my kids go to a Christian school, free from all this icky sexuality.

My kids will never have sex - I never did. And this gay conversion therapy - it’s not so bad, right? It spooks the queers, no need to speak ill of that, gotta break a few eggs to make a holy omelette.”

Then he picked up the latest Daily Telegraph for a buck sixty lobotomy. His brow furrowed as he found the most important topic of the moment, surely the thing Australia worries about the most - and an easy target to boot, a low hanging fruit of fruits.

“Damn these gender whisperers to hell”, he whispered. “Gender is what I say it is, and any kid who thinks they’re something other isn’t really a kid.” He opened Twitter.

Read more: Women in Business breakfast coming to Mudgee

He tapped. In a hall in a school in a town girt by drought, a student drags their feet. The student and the teacher meet. “I don’t feel… free - this boy mask, these clothes - it isn’t me, I’m not who I’m supposed to be. I’m so sorry.” The teacher wastes no time.

The teacher doesn’t judge, doesn’t shock, doesn’t run, doesn’t mock, doesn’t look upon the student there, this child of god, as beyond their care. “It’s okay.” the teacher whispers, “You are enough, and I know that things seem rough.

But you are brave in a way that generations before you fear, because you know what you want from existence and change terrifies a salted mind.”

“You are hurting no-one but the self you deny, please hang in there, it’s hard, but try.  This is a big, good, wonderful first step in telling me, its scary though in time - you’ll see. You are not a monster, you are not a freak, ignore the PM, he’s just weak. Frankly, he’s a pious loon (and we’ll probably have a new one soon). You are the spark of something new, of your best self, your truest true. The road seems long, great journeys do. But know, dear girl, I’m here for you.”

If you or anyone you know needs help:

Lifeline: 13 11 14

Kids Helpline: 1800 551 800

MensLine Australia: 1300 789 978

Suicide Call Back Service: 1300 659 467

Beyond Blue: 1300 22 46 36

Headspace: 1800 650 890