Chapter one- waking up

　
Rob
With his head over the gutter, trying to push out vomit, Rob felt like one giant cliché.

He looked down at his new chucks. The left one was as creamy as when he put them on but the right one was drenched in blood.

He let out a huge “Aaaaaourge” noise.

How the fuck did that happen?
He didn’t feel like he’d been bleeding but he couldn’t feel much at all.
All he wanted to do was sleep.
His friends were long gone.

Why am I in Newtown

“I fucking hate Newtown!” he yelled, using what seemed to be his last bit of energy as he plonked straight to the ground.

“Go home then” yelled a drunk man passing by.

The man and his girlfriend laughed loudly.

The girlfriend had a real cackle of a laugh.

It dwindled off into the distance but he wanted to shew her a way like a fly.

I fucking hate Newtown and Stevie is a bitch

Mandy
Amanda awoke in a haze and stared up at her roof. For a moment she’d forgotten that Kara was there. For a moment she’d forgotten all the angst she felt the previous night, wondering if she was fucking her right.

 She’d only ever slept with men and she knew that Kara, a woman significantly older than herself had slept with a tone of other women.

She flitted between thoughts of how she’d gotten her there and thoughts of how she could make her stay.

The previous night she’d run into her at a bar in the cross.

She saw Kara dancing, men hanging off her without a clue of what a raging lesbian she was. She was so charismatic that everyone she made eye contact with thought she was flirting with them.

Her long black hair was flying everywhere and she was smiling like a girl in a deodorant commercial, though she was 32, she looked playful and radiant enough to pass for 19.

It was that thought that gave Mandy the confidence to approach her. Maybe at the age of 21 she didn’t think she had the bravado seduce a worldly 32 year old but tonight Kara was 19.

She turned to Matt “I‘m going to do it”

Matt forced a smile and nodded “I‘m going to get us drinks”

It wasn’t that he didn’t like the idea of her running up and shoving her tongue down Karas’ throat. What guy doesn’t like that thought?
…but more that he’d heard it that many times and watched her wimp out at the last second with a lame “hey”.

Mandy stood there staring for a while longer than she’d realised, Matt was already back with drinks.

“I cant drink it” she pauses “My stomach is bubbling”

Matt shakes his head “can I do something?” he asks

“what?” she responds

As she does he pours his vodka lemonade onto her skin tight black dress

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” She yells

“Now you‘ll have something to open with” he laughs

“You dick!” she says shoving him

“Go tell her we had a fight and I poured drink on you and then I went home… then she‘ll stare at your chest and you‘ll make out and get married. I cant stay here and watch this train wreck”

“Are you mad at me?” she asks

“No I'm bored of this” he grabs her shoulders tightly “Now go, while your boobs are still wet”

“If you‘re going I'm going” she says shaking her head

“KARA!” he screams in his high pitched voice. Despite how loud the music is, she looks up, smiles and signals for them to come over.

“Thank me later” he says patting her on the shoulder


Dylan
There was a weight hanging over Dylan.

He knew it hadn’t always been there but he couldn’t pin when it came and planted itself on top of him making him feel like he couldn’t move, he just wanted it to piss off.

He sat there eating his frosties but he felt like he couldn’t taste the sugar.

He looked at them to check if they had the frosty part on them. They did. Why don’t they taste like frosties then? He thought.

Nicole, his housemate walked into the room. Everything about her annoyed him.

“Why do you eat that shit?” she asks.

And there it was.

Her annoying little voice.

I hate you.
Do you know I hate you?
“I don’t know” he said looking at her and looking back at them

“They don’t taste right today. They taste like cornflakes”

“Bullshit they are all sugar”she barks

“Taste them”

“I don’t want that shit in my fucking body” she says scrunching her nose

She swears too much

Nobody would fuck you
Nobody would ever fuck you
He looked at her long ratty hair thrown into a ponytail
Her lanky body reminded him of a 12 year old boy
Where are her tits?
She practically lived at the gym and ate healthy all the time but she always had yellow teeth.

Despite his love of sugar, Dylan took pride in his smile and whenever she spoke he couldn’t stop staring at her teeth.

He doubted she’d been kissed in years
 she never had anyone over.

He wondered if disgust was written all over his face

“Whatever” he says wiping his face

“Have an orange”

I WILL WHEN YOU BRUSH YOUR FUCKING TEETH

“Nah I‘m late for work”



Rhiannon
Rhiannon had sacrificed a lot having a child at 15 but as she carried him from the couch to bed while he pretended to be asleep she just thought about how much joy moments like this brought her.

Beau was 7 now but in many way he was so much younger.

She put him into bed and tucked him in.
She hoped he would sleep all the way through tonight
Not that it would make a difference to her own sleeping habits.

Those nightmares were as frequent for her as they were when he was barely 4 years old, when it all began.

“Mum” he cried out as she reached the door

“I knew you weren‘t asleep Buzz” she smiled “did you trick me again?”

A giant grin came over Beaus face
“I tricked you hey mum”
“You sure did” she laughed “Do you want me to stay for a bit?” she asks

“Nah” he says so cool “I‘m gonna sleep for real now”

She nods “Light on?”

“Nah”

“Ok goodnight”

She left his door ajar and went back out to the kitchen, thinking how brave her boy was.

She still slept with a lamp on and she’d often get up several times a night to check he was ok.
As she made herself a tea, her mind went back to Sally.
Not a day went by where she didn’t think of Sally and what that woman had done to her child.
 Though she’d heard she moved to Queensland last year with her husband, nothing ever put her mind to rest.

Rhi put her own relationship ending down to what Sally had done.

Carl, Beaus’ father moved out 3 years ago when they’d disagreed about pressing charges.
He said that Rhiannon had become obsessed.

He didn’t believe Sally was capable of it.

She remembered that fight they had before he went to the hotel “He’s fucking four Rhi! Four year olds make up stories sometimes”.

Sally told Carl that Beau was mad at her because she said he couldn’t have a second iceblock and she thought that’s why he’d made up that story

“You know I‘d never hurt you Beau- why are you saying these things?”

That evil woman. How could she talk to her son at all after what she’d done.
Rhi knew he wasn’t making it up.

She promised herself that no matter what, her son would know that his mother fought for him.

She looked down at her tea, it had been over brewed. She picked it up and tossed it in the sink.

Looking over her shoulder she noticed her sons Buzz Lightyear doll, she washed her hands and picked it up. He rarely slept without it, they started calling him Buzz when he was just a year old because he‘d call out for it.

The hall light was still on, she peered into his room and saw that he was fast asleep, for real now.


Graham

Graham was up early painting, with the sound of infomercials in the back ground.
 He painted a new picture of his wife every day.
One for each of the days that she’d been gone.

He heard the front door creak. It was his son.

He had moved back in with Graham a month back when he lost his job as a graphic designer and since shown no signs of looking for new work.

He thought having him around would make things less lonely but most nights he was out partying despite always claiming to be poor, he would often stumble in drunk and tonight was no exception.

Graham looked up and there was Robert

“Aaaarhg” he moaned as he stumbled into the room “Painting again”

“Yes Rob” he says looking at him over the top of his reading glasses “Drinking again?”

“Fuckin take em down” he yells and points around the room “It's like a fuckin' shrine in here, she’s not dead dad. She left you and she’s a fuckin' bitch”

“Don‘t talk about your mother that way!” He would always defend Kate

“Dad if she saw this, she‘d leave you …again” he laughed

His son had a sick sense of humour

Graham threw his brush on the floor

“Robert this is my house, have some fucking respect!”
Graham rarely swore

Rob laughs and shakes his head at the white paint on the carpet “better wash that” he looks him right in the eye “wouldn‘t want Mum to see it and get upset ay” he says holding his stomach as he laughs harder
Graham clenches his fist.

He has never wanted to hit his son more than right now.

“Robert Weight you‘re a disgrace” he says shaking his head and waving his fist

Rob walks a few steps backward “Robert Weight” he mimics his father in an over the top Irish accent and flails his arms about then turns and walks down the hall

Graham bends down and picks up the brush, still furious he yells out after his son “You‘d better be helping with the barbeque tomorrow!”

Robs door slams
Graham mumbles to himself “Maybe you can go live with one of your sisters and piss all over their carpet”