Brandon 2
KitaThe Truth About Unicorns (First Chapter)
October 3rd 2007 03:33
You know how at the end of Rumpelstitskin the little guy is so pissed off that the smart arse blonde chick worked out his name, he stomps on the grounds and disappears in a puff of smoke? Nope. No way. When you look at the old version, it says he drove his right foot so far into the ground that it sank in up to his waist. Then in a passion he seized the left foot with both hands and tore himself in two. Which is sweet, but try selling that to little kids. Nup. Not gonna happen.
You might think that’s the least of it. But trust me, there’s more. A whole lot more. Like, for instance, do you think Unicorns are sweet? Yeah. Thought you would. You know what those horns can do to a human skull?
Trust me on this one. It’s not sweet.
Grade Three.
My Big Adventure.
By Hayden.
Yesterday stuff happened what was the best thing ever.
James, Me, Sally and Tara were going to Tara’s house. There were big earthquakes. We fell down. The ground got big cracks. We went to look down there. We were really scared. A man flew out of the ground. We tried to run but he used magic to freeze us and talked to us in our heads. His name was Bir. He wore a fluffy yellow coat. He said he came from a magical place called Goamandia. He said it was in danger of being destroyed unless we could find a magic orb. A magical bridge opened up. He touched our foreheads and told us we were brave. Suddenly, we felt really brave too. We walked across the bridge. We were ready to start our big adventure.
There is the sound of Tara vomiting over the fence, letting her insides out. From the house drifts out the sound of System of a Down. Every so often you can spy the movement of drunk people combating the forces of gravity. James walks across and passes me a Vodka. I take a sip.
“This tastes like shit,” I say. James shrugs and skulls his.
“Just drink it down four eyes,” he says, “You wanna be the wanker kid in Uni who throws up because he didn’t learn how to drink in his High School years?.”
“Meh,” I say, but I take a sip anyhow. James lights up a fag.
Tara is stumbling towards us, wiping the last glob of spit off the side of her cheek.
“Hayyyyden,” she wails.
“What’s up, Taraburger with cheese?” I say.
“Hayden… why… why didn’t they believe…”
“Don’t start that crap up again,” spits James, forcefully, and I’m grateful to him. James shakes his head. “Christ, woman. You get two drinks in you and it’s fairies and bloody unicorns pouring out your arse.”
“Screw you,” says Tara venomously, waving her arm drunkenly.
“Let’s not get nasty,” I say. “Come on. Let’s leave this place. I don’t like the vibe. Where’s Sal?”
“She’s absent,” says James, pausing to offer Tara a fag. She takes it, gratefully. “Trust me, we’re stuck here at least another hour, if we’re waiting for her.”
Tara glares at him. “If you’re trying to say that she’s off, doing naughty things, you’re sadly mistook.”
“You’re joking, right.”
“I happen… I just so happen to know the boy whom Sal was speaking to. His name’s David, and I can assure you, he’s a gentlemen.”
James blows out a cloud of smoke. “Gentlemen have dicks too.”
Tara groans and lets her head fall back, the cigarette dangling uselessly between her fingertips.
I take another sip of Vodka, and spit it back out. “I’m going in for a beer,” I say, “I can’t take this muck.”
I leave the drink on the table, and James pulls it over to him, before Tara’s sticky fingers can claim it. I walk in, up to the esky, stick my hand in and fish out a beer, eventually pulling one out.
“You reckon you could pass us a rum?”
I turn, to find Sal’s dreamboy, David looking at me.
I nod. “Sure.” I grab a rum, and chuck it at him. He catches it perfectly.
He opens it, takes a huge gulp, and puts it down on the table. “You seen Sally?” he asks.
I shake my head. “Nup. Thought she was with you?”
He laughs. “I wish. Nah, she went off somewhere. Can’t find her.”
We stand there for a moment, in an uncomfortable silence.
“I’ve got to get home soon,” he says, “Got some stuff to fix up. My moron cousins took some pills and wrote poetry on the walls… so now I’ve got to go and try to help them fix it up before they get their balls chopped of. So, I’m spending the night with two guys on drugs repainting my Aunts house.”
I laugh a little, mostly out of politeness. “Sounds like you’re in for a weird time.”
“Not as weird time as I’ve heard you’ve had, once upon an adventure.”
The air turns stony, and I stare him in the eyes, expecting to see his face mocking and sneering, but instead his eyes are curiously calm. I shake my head softly.
“Mate,” I say, “Honest to God, no offence, but don’t even go there. The amount of shit we’ve all gone through because of… whatever the hell that all was, is just… obscene. Don’t even bring it up again. Serious.”
In the distance, someone is calling his name. He ignores them, leaning closer to me, a tiny grin on his face. “Whatever you want dude,” he says, “But if you ever change your mind, and want to go there, feel free.”
He leans close to my ear, so close I start to pull away, puts a hand on my shoulder, and whispers, so quietly I can barely hear him;
“I’ve already been there.”
Before I can understand, he’s off, heading for the door at a jog. Still half dazed, I yet at him to wait, and he yells back, “Talk later, later… no time, look at my pocket watch… I’ve a date to help the Queen of Hearts wipe fucking poetry off the wall, trust me, talk soon, give my regards to Sal…”
The door slams behind him, and I run, drunkenly crashing into a wall and hitting the ground, before scrambling to my feet. I thrust it open. It doesn’t matter. He’s already gone; melted into the night like a mist.
My Big Adventure.
By Hayden.
Bir took us to a field where four Unicorns that were pink, blue, purple and orange were waiting. They were hard to ride. We got to the town. It was big. We were scared. I asked about getting home and he said that it would be OK because time passed differently in this world and it would be like we were only gone a few minutes. We went into the town and went to a palace. It was big and gold. We went in with Bir see the king. It was exiting.
I was a grade seven drug dealer.
It was because I was diagnosed with A.D.D. Or, really, I was diagnosed with everything. I had A.D.D. Mild Schizophrenia. Compulsive Lying Disorder. I was a victim of Van Munchausen by Proxy (not that Mum was a real fan of that one – hahaha – turning the fucking tables huh?). “Maybe he’s depressed?” “Maybe he’s got an over active imagination?” “Maybe he’s Bi-polar”. They threw it at me. Gave me books, pamphlets, psychiatrists. Pills.
Back to the pills. Of course. Adderall. Personally – not a fan of it. Honestly. After you grip on to a Unicorn at a thousand miles an hour, dodging arrows fired by giant Goblins on fire breathing Dragons, drugs become a little inadequate. I’ve tried, mind you. But Narcotics aren’t Narnia.
They didn’t know that though. All those fucked up dumbarse twelve year old tough kids, got something to prove. All those kids getting beaten up, uncared for, depressed, whatever. That wanted a bit of happiness, a bit of escape, wherever they could find it.
Which was in my pocket.
This is how I bought my first skateboard, and camera, and a few CD’s. Until somebody blabbed (inevitably), and the school caught on. Seems Educational Institutions look down on such things. I was kicked out of the school. Finished grade seven some shithole a few K’s further off. Really liked it to tell the truth. Kids didn’t know about the Unicorn shit, so things actually settled down a bit. They just thought I was a dope fiend, which made me friends nice and fast. It was perfect.
All it needed was a beautiful face to look at across the room, and feel madly in love with.
All it needed was Sal.
Sal is in the garden, sitting on a rock, staring down at the glass in her hands. I touch her on the shoulder, and she twists her head to look.
“Oh. Hey.”
“Hey.”
“I’m just… thought…”
“David was looking for you.”
“Oh. Yeah… I wasn’t, just… wasn’t in the mood.”
“That’s unusual”
“Oi – watch yourself buddy,” she says, but she’s grinning. I take a seat beside us.
“You told David about our adventure?”
“What? No, fuck no. Why’d you think that?”
“Hmm? Oh, I don’t know. Just some crazy thought I guess.”
“Oh.”
We sit, watching the moonlight illuminate the clouds, seeking to hide the moon’s imperfect face.
“We don’t talk about it a lot, do we?” says Sal.
“We’re talking about it now aren’t we?”
“I guess. Just… I don’t know. I spend every day avoiding talking about it. It’s tiring. I… no one would have ever thought it could be so tiring to spend all day specifically not doing something. It’s insane.”
“I know.”
There’s another silence, a longer one.
“I tried to kill myself,” she says.
“I know.”
“Thought you might have. Did you tell…”
“God no. They’re too twisted up in their own shit to know what’s going on. Listen I know it doesn’t feel like it, but you and me, we’re probably the most balanced of the four of us. Tara can’t accept that nobody will believe us, spends her time constructing wild fantasies, explanations that she could never genuinely use to convince anyone, but tries anyhow. And James, he’s just in fucking denial. Tries to deal with the elephant in the room by pretending it isn’t there. You and me, we get it. It’s not easy but we accept and deal. It’s all we can do.”
There’s another pause. The bushes rustle and a cat yowls in the distance. Around the corner, a skull chant fills the night.
“I don’t know if you know how much I love you,” I whisper, just lower than she can make out. If she asks me to repeat it I will. I’ll look her in the eyes, and I’ll say it, and I’ll kiss her.
She says “I love how still the night air is.”
I nod. “It’s pretty nice,” I say.
I drink more. I tell a joke, or something. People laugh anyway. I catch the whiff of pot. I catch a whiff of vomit. And rum.
I drink some more. And some more. And I end up suddenly tongue pashing some chick, and she’s grabbing at my belt, but I’m not in the mood, so I move away from her. I take a shot of something. Suddenly I am in the mood. I try to find her, and she’s walking off with James. Yeah. Great move, Einstein. Something goes in my mouth. Something comes out my mouth. I’m on grass. On asphalt. In a car. In my room. Want to sleep but can’t. Never can.
I draw unicorns when I can’t sleep. Thick black lined, almost tattoo designs, sweet little unicorns, eyes and faces mangled into hideous demon glares. Horns dripping blood, or still stuck out the end of an impaled corpse.
They’re not sweet, I assure you. Everyone whose met one can tell you. Prancing and dancing around, sure, it’s all part of the repertoire. But get an angry son of a bitch, and kiss your sappy bullshit my little pony fantasy goodbye.
I draw. Pages and pages, piled, stored, discarded, filed, stacked, scanned. A thousand nightmare visions, floating around.
I stare down at the page, furrowing my brow to concentrate on taking control of my nervous system back from this terrible drink. I curve the line around, aiming for precision, and my elbow knocks an old cup of coffee and sends the cold liquid jumping out the cup and…
Freezing.
I pause, a cold flash in my chest, staring. This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening. Even in my drunken state, I can see something’s not right. Like, the total fucking absence of gravity.
The cup is still, balanced on one edge, the brown liquid spilling, stretching out like long shiny tendrils, suspended in the air. Behind me, there’s a black dot in the air, a fly, paused in flight.
“Where are you?” I say, too loudly, pumped full of anger and bullshit bravado. My stomach is churning. My heart doesn’t beat so much as whimper, sinking back into my chest, trying to hide away from the sick, messed up reality.
“Just calm yourself down, for a few seconds, please, Hayden.”
I don’t look. I know he’s there. Bir. The son of a bitch who ruined my fucking life. Who put me in this cell of misery.
“I think you should leave right now mother fucker,” I say. “You are many things. Welcome is not one of them. Never will be. Ever.”
“I understand your point of view…”
“Screw you!” I yell, snapping around to catch sight of him. He sits calmly on the window sill, dressed in suit and tie, shiny black shoes tapping absentmindedly together. A cigarette smoulders slowly, drooping in his fingers.
“No fond memories?” he asks, slowly, almost dryly, and for a second I think he might be mocking me.
“You destroyed my life man,” I spit out, one intoxicated arm animating my speech. “What the fuck did you expect?”
He sits there, tapping his shoes gently and reaches out one finger to touch the fly, frozen in midair. He gives a soft sad smile.
And looks straight at me.
And says, “I might need to ask you a favour.”
My Big Adventure.
By Hayden.
The king was nice. He told us that there was a big problem. Forces of evil were coming to destroy everything. He said the only way he could stop these evil forces was to get the help of four human children. He gave us all a magical crystal to keep us safe. He told us that we had to take an ancient scroll and bring it to him, so he could destroy the baddies.
He told us all he could see bravery shining in each of us. He said we were heroes and were going to achieve more that anyone our age.. He said that after this we would be champions and it would make our lives better, and more good that we could ever even imagine, for the rest of our lives.
Brenton Clutterbuck.
You might think that’s the least of it. But trust me, there’s more. A whole lot more. Like, for instance, do you think Unicorns are sweet? Yeah. Thought you would. You know what those horns can do to a human skull?
Trust me on this one. It’s not sweet.
Grade Three.
My Big Adventure.
By Hayden.
Yesterday stuff happened what was the best thing ever.
James, Me, Sally and Tara were going to Tara’s house. There were big earthquakes. We fell down. The ground got big cracks. We went to look down there. We were really scared. A man flew out of the ground. We tried to run but he used magic to freeze us and talked to us in our heads. His name was Bir. He wore a fluffy yellow coat. He said he came from a magical place called Goamandia. He said it was in danger of being destroyed unless we could find a magic orb. A magical bridge opened up. He touched our foreheads and told us we were brave. Suddenly, we felt really brave too. We walked across the bridge. We were ready to start our big adventure.
There is the sound of Tara vomiting over the fence, letting her insides out. From the house drifts out the sound of System of a Down. Every so often you can spy the movement of drunk people combating the forces of gravity. James walks across and passes me a Vodka. I take a sip.
“This tastes like shit,” I say. James shrugs and skulls his.
“Just drink it down four eyes,” he says, “You wanna be the wanker kid in Uni who throws up because he didn’t learn how to drink in his High School years?.”
“Meh,” I say, but I take a sip anyhow. James lights up a fag.
Tara is stumbling towards us, wiping the last glob of spit off the side of her cheek.
“Hayyyyden,” she wails.
“What’s up, Taraburger with cheese?” I say.
“Hayden… why… why didn’t they believe…”
“Don’t start that crap up again,” spits James, forcefully, and I’m grateful to him. James shakes his head. “Christ, woman. You get two drinks in you and it’s fairies and bloody unicorns pouring out your arse.”
“Screw you,” says Tara venomously, waving her arm drunkenly.
“Let’s not get nasty,” I say. “Come on. Let’s leave this place. I don’t like the vibe. Where’s Sal?”
“She’s absent,” says James, pausing to offer Tara a fag. She takes it, gratefully. “Trust me, we’re stuck here at least another hour, if we’re waiting for her.”
Tara glares at him. “If you’re trying to say that she’s off, doing naughty things, you’re sadly mistook.”
“You’re joking, right.”
“I happen… I just so happen to know the boy whom Sal was speaking to. His name’s David, and I can assure you, he’s a gentlemen.”
James blows out a cloud of smoke. “Gentlemen have dicks too.”
Tara groans and lets her head fall back, the cigarette dangling uselessly between her fingertips.
I take another sip of Vodka, and spit it back out. “I’m going in for a beer,” I say, “I can’t take this muck.”
I leave the drink on the table, and James pulls it over to him, before Tara’s sticky fingers can claim it. I walk in, up to the esky, stick my hand in and fish out a beer, eventually pulling one out.
“You reckon you could pass us a rum?”
I turn, to find Sal’s dreamboy, David looking at me.
I nod. “Sure.” I grab a rum, and chuck it at him. He catches it perfectly.
He opens it, takes a huge gulp, and puts it down on the table. “You seen Sally?” he asks.
I shake my head. “Nup. Thought she was with you?”
He laughs. “I wish. Nah, she went off somewhere. Can’t find her.”
We stand there for a moment, in an uncomfortable silence.
“I’ve got to get home soon,” he says, “Got some stuff to fix up. My moron cousins took some pills and wrote poetry on the walls… so now I’ve got to go and try to help them fix it up before they get their balls chopped of. So, I’m spending the night with two guys on drugs repainting my Aunts house.”
I laugh a little, mostly out of politeness. “Sounds like you’re in for a weird time.”
“Not as weird time as I’ve heard you’ve had, once upon an adventure.”
The air turns stony, and I stare him in the eyes, expecting to see his face mocking and sneering, but instead his eyes are curiously calm. I shake my head softly.
“Mate,” I say, “Honest to God, no offence, but don’t even go there. The amount of shit we’ve all gone through because of… whatever the hell that all was, is just… obscene. Don’t even bring it up again. Serious.”
In the distance, someone is calling his name. He ignores them, leaning closer to me, a tiny grin on his face. “Whatever you want dude,” he says, “But if you ever change your mind, and want to go there, feel free.”
He leans close to my ear, so close I start to pull away, puts a hand on my shoulder, and whispers, so quietly I can barely hear him;
“I’ve already been there.”
Before I can understand, he’s off, heading for the door at a jog. Still half dazed, I yet at him to wait, and he yells back, “Talk later, later… no time, look at my pocket watch… I’ve a date to help the Queen of Hearts wipe fucking poetry off the wall, trust me, talk soon, give my regards to Sal…”
The door slams behind him, and I run, drunkenly crashing into a wall and hitting the ground, before scrambling to my feet. I thrust it open. It doesn’t matter. He’s already gone; melted into the night like a mist.
My Big Adventure.
By Hayden.
Bir took us to a field where four Unicorns that were pink, blue, purple and orange were waiting. They were hard to ride. We got to the town. It was big. We were scared. I asked about getting home and he said that it would be OK because time passed differently in this world and it would be like we were only gone a few minutes. We went into the town and went to a palace. It was big and gold. We went in with Bir see the king. It was exiting.
I was a grade seven drug dealer.
It was because I was diagnosed with A.D.D. Or, really, I was diagnosed with everything. I had A.D.D. Mild Schizophrenia. Compulsive Lying Disorder. I was a victim of Van Munchausen by Proxy (not that Mum was a real fan of that one – hahaha – turning the fucking tables huh?). “Maybe he’s depressed?” “Maybe he’s got an over active imagination?” “Maybe he’s Bi-polar”. They threw it at me. Gave me books, pamphlets, psychiatrists. Pills.
Back to the pills. Of course. Adderall. Personally – not a fan of it. Honestly. After you grip on to a Unicorn at a thousand miles an hour, dodging arrows fired by giant Goblins on fire breathing Dragons, drugs become a little inadequate. I’ve tried, mind you. But Narcotics aren’t Narnia.
They didn’t know that though. All those fucked up dumbarse twelve year old tough kids, got something to prove. All those kids getting beaten up, uncared for, depressed, whatever. That wanted a bit of happiness, a bit of escape, wherever they could find it.
Which was in my pocket.
This is how I bought my first skateboard, and camera, and a few CD’s. Until somebody blabbed (inevitably), and the school caught on. Seems Educational Institutions look down on such things. I was kicked out of the school. Finished grade seven some shithole a few K’s further off. Really liked it to tell the truth. Kids didn’t know about the Unicorn shit, so things actually settled down a bit. They just thought I was a dope fiend, which made me friends nice and fast. It was perfect.
All it needed was a beautiful face to look at across the room, and feel madly in love with.
All it needed was Sal.
Sal is in the garden, sitting on a rock, staring down at the glass in her hands. I touch her on the shoulder, and she twists her head to look.
“Oh. Hey.”
“Hey.”
“I’m just… thought…”
“David was looking for you.”
“Oh. Yeah… I wasn’t, just… wasn’t in the mood.”
“That’s unusual”
“Oi – watch yourself buddy,” she says, but she’s grinning. I take a seat beside us.
“You told David about our adventure?”
“What? No, fuck no. Why’d you think that?”
“Hmm? Oh, I don’t know. Just some crazy thought I guess.”
“Oh.”
We sit, watching the moonlight illuminate the clouds, seeking to hide the moon’s imperfect face.
“We don’t talk about it a lot, do we?” says Sal.
“We’re talking about it now aren’t we?”
“I guess. Just… I don’t know. I spend every day avoiding talking about it. It’s tiring. I… no one would have ever thought it could be so tiring to spend all day specifically not doing something. It’s insane.”
“I know.”
There’s another silence, a longer one.
“I tried to kill myself,” she says.
“I know.”
“Thought you might have. Did you tell…”
“God no. They’re too twisted up in their own shit to know what’s going on. Listen I know it doesn’t feel like it, but you and me, we’re probably the most balanced of the four of us. Tara can’t accept that nobody will believe us, spends her time constructing wild fantasies, explanations that she could never genuinely use to convince anyone, but tries anyhow. And James, he’s just in fucking denial. Tries to deal with the elephant in the room by pretending it isn’t there. You and me, we get it. It’s not easy but we accept and deal. It’s all we can do.”
There’s another pause. The bushes rustle and a cat yowls in the distance. Around the corner, a skull chant fills the night.
“I don’t know if you know how much I love you,” I whisper, just lower than she can make out. If she asks me to repeat it I will. I’ll look her in the eyes, and I’ll say it, and I’ll kiss her.
She says “I love how still the night air is.”
I nod. “It’s pretty nice,” I say.
I drink more. I tell a joke, or something. People laugh anyway. I catch the whiff of pot. I catch a whiff of vomit. And rum.
I drink some more. And some more. And I end up suddenly tongue pashing some chick, and she’s grabbing at my belt, but I’m not in the mood, so I move away from her. I take a shot of something. Suddenly I am in the mood. I try to find her, and she’s walking off with James. Yeah. Great move, Einstein. Something goes in my mouth. Something comes out my mouth. I’m on grass. On asphalt. In a car. In my room. Want to sleep but can’t. Never can.
I draw unicorns when I can’t sleep. Thick black lined, almost tattoo designs, sweet little unicorns, eyes and faces mangled into hideous demon glares. Horns dripping blood, or still stuck out the end of an impaled corpse.
They’re not sweet, I assure you. Everyone whose met one can tell you. Prancing and dancing around, sure, it’s all part of the repertoire. But get an angry son of a bitch, and kiss your sappy bullshit my little pony fantasy goodbye.
I draw. Pages and pages, piled, stored, discarded, filed, stacked, scanned. A thousand nightmare visions, floating around.
I stare down at the page, furrowing my brow to concentrate on taking control of my nervous system back from this terrible drink. I curve the line around, aiming for precision, and my elbow knocks an old cup of coffee and sends the cold liquid jumping out the cup and…
Freezing.
I pause, a cold flash in my chest, staring. This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening. Even in my drunken state, I can see something’s not right. Like, the total fucking absence of gravity.
The cup is still, balanced on one edge, the brown liquid spilling, stretching out like long shiny tendrils, suspended in the air. Behind me, there’s a black dot in the air, a fly, paused in flight.
“Where are you?” I say, too loudly, pumped full of anger and bullshit bravado. My stomach is churning. My heart doesn’t beat so much as whimper, sinking back into my chest, trying to hide away from the sick, messed up reality.
“Just calm yourself down, for a few seconds, please, Hayden.”
I don’t look. I know he’s there. Bir. The son of a bitch who ruined my fucking life. Who put me in this cell of misery.
“I think you should leave right now mother fucker,” I say. “You are many things. Welcome is not one of them. Never will be. Ever.”
“I understand your point of view…”
“Screw you!” I yell, snapping around to catch sight of him. He sits calmly on the window sill, dressed in suit and tie, shiny black shoes tapping absentmindedly together. A cigarette smoulders slowly, drooping in his fingers.
“No fond memories?” he asks, slowly, almost dryly, and for a second I think he might be mocking me.
“You destroyed my life man,” I spit out, one intoxicated arm animating my speech. “What the fuck did you expect?”
He sits there, tapping his shoes gently and reaches out one finger to touch the fly, frozen in midair. He gives a soft sad smile.
And looks straight at me.
And says, “I might need to ask you a favour.”
My Big Adventure.
By Hayden.
The king was nice. He told us that there was a big problem. Forces of evil were coming to destroy everything. He said the only way he could stop these evil forces was to get the help of four human children. He gave us all a magical crystal to keep us safe. He told us that we had to take an ancient scroll and bring it to him, so he could destroy the baddies.
He told us all he could see bravery shining in each of us. He said we were heroes and were going to achieve more that anyone our age.. He said that after this we would be champions and it would make our lives better, and more good that we could ever even imagine, for the rest of our lives.
Brenton Clutterbuck.
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