‘This Be the Verse’

483 words

‘They fuck you up, your mum and dad. They may not mean to, but they do. Have you read Larkin?’ she said, pulling on the joint. The clouds had taken on weird shapes, like fluffy popcorn.

'No,’ he said. She passed him the joint and he put it to his lips.

‘That’s all I remember,’ she said. ‘They fuck you up. It’s a poem.’

‘Okay,’ he said.

She thought about reaching out, running a finger along his arm. The sound of her nieces and nephews chasing each other around the lawn drifted up from the yard below. Her sister’s voice, cutting through the squeals.

‘It’s true,’ she said. ‘Mine did. My mum was such a narcissist. She was so self absorbed. Still is. Everything is about her. Even now with the cancer. And that would be understandable if it was anyone else. But with mum she’s like happiest when she’s sick, when there’s something wrong with her. That way she can get you do what she wants. She can manipulate you. It’s like a superpower, you know what I mean?’

‘Sure,’ he said, shading his eyes. The sun was breaking through the trees, the sweat on his t-shirt.

‘My whole life she’s manipulated me. Guilted me onto doing things I didn’t want to do. Like drama and fucking ballet. And dragging me to the theatre. I mean, I’m sorry, but no twelve year old girl wants to sit through three hours of Brecht, you know? I mean some do. But not me. Not then. Not the fucking Caucasian Chalk Circle epic theatre bullshit. I mean maybe if we’d gone to musicals, like Sound of Music or something, sure, but this was like what the hell! I’m like twelve years old! Why are you forcing me to watch this?! And the thing is she knew I hated it. But she enjoyed torturing me. She enjoyed making my life hell. You know?’

He nodded and passed her back the joint and their fingers brushed.

‘How about your parents? They make you do things you didn’t wanna do?’

He squinted his green eyes and thought for a moment.

‘This one time my dad woke me up in the middle of the night and made me follow him into the garage and there was this kid from the neighbourhood who I kind of knew, but not really, and he was all tied up with zip-ties. Dad busted him trying to steal his car. And then he made me watch him beat the shit out of him. Had blood coming out his nose and mouth and ears and everything. And dad was like, this is what you do when someone messes with your shit.’

He sat up, hocked up a gob of spit, and sent it sailing off the roof. She reached out and lightly placed a hand on his back.

‘They fuck you up,’ she said.