Oh dear Bunnykinz, how many times have we fallen? She sings to her rabbit as she skips along a dirt road. The rabbit has no answer, he is bracing for the next fall, the greatest of them all. I think I am beginning to like this place, with all the dark doom and misery. It screams DEATH lives here! Bunykinz shudders, because he knows where they are, he knows what this place is. She hasn’t figured it out yet, daft girl, always too busy skipping along singing to the clouds in the sky, even when it is pitch black dark and no cloud to be seen!
Suddenly she comes to a stop. She can hear music. I know this song! She squeals with glee. She twirls around, and finally takes notice of where she is. She can’t recall how she got here, but here she is. She stands in the crossroads. Seven roads branch out from where she stands. If she was to walk 5 paces in any direction she would come to the edge of the road and, well, simply fall off. Into what, she can’t even guess.
To her left is a ridiculous looking sign, pointing in all seven direction. Each point has a little wooden plaque with one word written on it:
Something about the words stir her mind. She quickly clamps down on that. Which way to run, she thinks to herself. She decided on CRAZY and starts to walk towards the edge. A strange noise makes her turn. The plaques have all moved! The rabbit snickers. She frowns. This is not how it is meant to be! She is back to not liking this place at all! And now she is stuck she must take a road. What would your old self do, the Bunnykinz asks her. NO. She says firmly. But the thought is there and she thinks for just a moment about her former self and knows exactly what she would do.
Before she can second guess herself, she spins around 3 times back and forth and back with her eyes closed. When she stops she opens her eyes and runs forward, taking a huge leap as she jumps off the edge, turning at the moment her feet left the road to see which plaque pointed her way.
Hiding amongst the cabbages. Shhh Wilfred, you big ole cat, you will give me away. Sneaky sneak through the garden, over to the fence, Charlie reaches down and nuzzles her head, and she touches his mane lovingly. The sounds of an accordion drifst across the veggie patch and she can smell apple pie baking in the oven. She slips under the wire fence, Charlie nudges her and she runs her hand along his flank, sneaky sneaky she uses the old horse for cover as she makes her way down to the willows. Almost to the edge and she hears hysterical quacking in her wake, she turns to see her duck, Paddy, running as fast as a duck can, wings flapping as he honks for her. He is going to get her found out, she quickly runs back, Paddy she calls quietly. He calms down, she walks with him back to the edge of the bank. She isn’t meant to be here, but she doesn’t care. It is magical down here. She moves past the rusted out old wreck, slowly down the embankment. Paddy waddles behind her, Charlie has moved further along the edge to a less steep path to make his way down. Wilfred is making his way slowly across the paddock, keeping an eye on her. Down the little path her uncles had shown her she made her way. Charlie was already at the bottom, looking at her from the creeks edge, his eyes asking her what was taking so long? Finally, she made it down the last bit, on her bottom sliding down the dirt. She walked to the edge of the creek. It wasn’t very deep, not at this time of year. The willows hung along the top edge and down here, beside the creek bed, and it felt to her like she had left the world and was in her own place. Charlie stepped into the creek and drank deeply. Paddy, of course, waddled in and floated to the middle, as if expecting her to follow. She laughed and clapped her hands. On the other side a rabbit sat frozen, watching this strange bunch. She settled down on a small patch of grass and laid back and let the daydreams in her mind run free. The horse never strayed far from her, the duck swam around digging juicy worms from the creek bed. Wilfred sat at the top of the bank, watching her and whatever moved around her. At that moment, she wished she could stay here, like this forever. But it was not to be, she heard the shrill yap of her Nanna’s terriers, Wilfred bolted and Charlie’s head jerked up. Not long after, her Nanna appeared where Wilfred had been sitting, wringing her hands in her apron as she let out a laugh at the site of her granddaughter and friends down there. She called her up, told her she should tell someone, other than the animals, when she was going wondering off. She asked her Nanna if she was worried, she laughed and said no, she had heard Paddy and saw that Charlie was with her, and she knew old Charlie would look after her. If only things could have stayed like that, if only it didn’t have to change.
You’re the wildest girl I know.
I’m not wild, I am just free.
The memory is fragmented. They took speed, coke and rohypnol. She remembers laughing. She remembers they planned something. Blank. At a service station filling up a car she has never seen before. Blank. Driving under the stars and street lights. Blank. She remembers the shower, she had to get clean, she felt euphoric. She remembers he gets in the shower with her and the sex, she could never forget that. Blank. Dressing in his clothes because hers are gone. Blank. Wakes up with no memory of what they did, and not a care is given. Her smile knows no bounds.
It’s her 16th birthday, she has been on her own for almost 3 years, but currently has what passes for a “home”. Her “guardian” comes from the school of fucking hard knocks, and has already taught her some serious life lessons. Her life on the street so far had taught her much, but this woman taught her the respectful ways of old school, of how to survive within the system. She had been living outside the system, and that was a tough life, much easier if you knew how to work the system. She taught her how to be a better criminal, a better shadow, a better way to live. Not all of those lessons were passed on with words, some had to be learnt the hard way, and often with violence But learnt they where and the times were good. Like her 16th, when they threw a 3 day party and the whose who of the underworld came for her party, and she tasted that life, and was torn for the first time, torn between her freedom and her want for that life of glamour. In later years, when they all killed each other in the gangland wars, she was glad she chose her freedom, but at 16, it was a hard choice to make.
‘Oh my gods I think if I laugh any harder I am going to burst.’ Give me more magic coffee she laughs, the magic mushrooms brewed in the water doing their trick. Never has she laughed so hard. And than, she saw him! HE IS REAL! She yells, what they ask her. The RABBIT! Mr rabbit, he is real. Oh gods I knew he was real. And they all laugh hysterically, and the rabbit smiles at her from the doorway, the rabbit that has been in her dreams since she was a wee tot.
You disgust me. You’re going to grow up to be a jezebel, I do not like who you. You’re arrogant. You will amount to nothing. /thebrokencurse
No, you’re jealous. Jealous because I am all the things you are not. You despise yourself and your boring life, that you did nothing, went no where because you are nothing. All you have is your bitterness and you chose to take that out on your child, your daughter, all because she is not dull and dim witted like you. I am what you need me to be so you can sleep at night, and that is ok because now I understand that, understand that when you look at me, you see broken dreams and a life wasted. I know that when you look at me you see something you could never be, something you could never have, something you can never understand. It does not matter what you think of me anymore, because I see you for who you really are, but more importantly, I see myself for who I really am. Through my own eyes, not through your eyes or the others. Your taint is not upon me, and it does not eat at me the way it eats at you. You said I will lay in the bed I make, and I am ok with that, because my bed is full of love and happiness and memory of freedom and laughter and friendship and a life well lived. I lay in a bed with my beautiful children, even though you have taken one from me, and turned his very soul against his own mother. I lay in a bed with man whose passion I still share, whose love I will share until the end, I lay with a man because I chose to, not because of what he gives me. When I lay in my bed, that I made, I lay there with content, and no regrets. Can you say the same? No, you can’t. Your bed is fitted with bitterness and hatred, caged in a world you created for yourself. But I know you blame me for making your bed, and that’s ok, if that’s how you want to sleep at night. I am everything you could never be, I am everything I ever wanted to be. I will not lose sleep over you, I will not visit your grave when this word takes you, because you died to me long ago, and I am ok sleeping with that under my pillow. ~unwritten letters
Oh dear Bunnykinz! Can you hear the music! Can you see the pictures! Can you see the memories! Look how they wrap around us, protecting our fall! All this time, dear Bunny, I thought they would break us! But here they are, making us stronger, giving us the voice for our own song! Even the worst memories are here, and yet we no longer see them with eyes wide shut. We no longer seek to bury them deep, and look Bunnykinz look Mr Rabbit, look at the reflection of Self in each of these memories! So long we spent looking at the wrong things, not seeing ourselves bunny! Look at who we are, who we was, who we can be! Look at who we can be, my silly little rabbit!
The stair case wove up and up through the stars, the ivy vines wrapped around the rails up and up, the wind wove through her hair, kissed her skin, the scent of jasmine and rose hung on the air, and sitting upon the step for a moment of rest, she was but hidden for a time, looking upon the black and silver key within her hand, and the symbol of the dragon that laid upon the cloth to which it was bound. The memory of his eyes burned in here mind. The time was coming when she would remember, she felt this in her very bones. Until that time, in kaos she would wonder, looking for the final gate to unlock her stolen mind.