Kiss Kill Page 6
Her lips pulled back. She screeched. The sound hung then stopped, chopped off at its source. She dropped to the floor, still, a spent force. I stepped back and watched. I was not fooled. Two deep breaths and she was back on the job. She did not cry, she keened. A sound like a drill in your teeth.
I hate you!
I ached. It felt like I’d been jumped by ten guys. I dropped to the floor next to Elle. I could smell fear through the dust, my fear, a taste like stale dirt, like I was six foot down.
My limbs shook. My thoughts whirled.
What to do? What to do?
I heaved with dread – with tears not shed.
And she wept. I did not know if they were tears of grief or tears of joy. I did not want to know. I did not care. I had to get out of there. To get home. Back to Mum and Dad. Back to my friends.
How did it come to this? Why was I such a wuss? A wimp.
And then she spoke, her voice like my thumb caught in a press. I could not work out what she said. I leant down, hot breath on my face, words squeezed through clamped jaws.
It’s all your fault.
What?
You made me do it.
Me?!
Do not go near that girl, the one I saw you with.
She dragged up my chin to lock my gaze. I looked for a soul.
You hear me?
Yes.
Then I limped out the door.
In English we’re studying Romulus, My Father as a text. I’m sitting, only taking half of it in when all of a sudden I hear these fate-filled words …
MITRU: I wish it could be the way it used to be. When we were friends.
It’s as though Mitru is speaking to me about Elle. I want to go back to the old Elle. The one who was my friend.
I talk to Jonno. Ask if Nadia’s like this. Hot-cold-hot-cold. He says I have to set some ground rules. Let her know what’s okay and what’s not.
Mat’s Relationship Rules
I would rather you talk to my face than behind my back.
Crisis time is cutting things too fine when you have a problem.
If I say something that can be interpreted in two ways, and one of the ways makes you angry, I meant the other one.
When I ask you what’s wrong and you say, ‘Nothing’, I believe you.
Shoes are for wearing, not hitting/kicking me with.
Tell me clearly what you want. Hints are not understood.
Don’t ask a question you don’t want an honest answer to.
Don’t ask me what I’m thinking and don’t expect me to ask you what you’re thinking.
Shopping should have a one hour time limit put on it. After one hour of shopping I spontaneously combust.
Don’t ask if I think you’re fat/ugly/dumb.
Whingeing is right up there. So is calling my friends ‘losers’.
I do not want any more clothes.
Acting dumb is not cute.
Crying is blackmail.
Pink is not the new black.
Arm-wrestling is a sign of affection.
The settings “Flirt” and “Ignore” should not be used in the same five minute period.
I am happy to gossip but not spread rumours.
Words can hurt and cause pain.
Yes, I can take a joke.
Fishing involves hooks and lines, not compliments.
Nail extensions embedded in my arm are not the ‘latest look’.
I’m happy for you to wear my clothes as long as you’re happy to give them back when you’re finished with them.
No one is always wrong. If I can admit when I am wrong, so can you.
A conversation does not have to have eye contact.
Realise that I like other girls but I’m not ‘in love’ with other girls.
I like it when you introduce me as your boyfriend. ‘This guy I know’ doesn’t do it for me.
If you want me to listen, you have to pause when you’re speaking.
Chick flicks are for chicks.
Personal put downs in front of others will not guarantee you a spot on ‘The Comedy Show’.
Carrying-on until you get your own way is immature.
Don’t forget the ‘give’ part in a give-and-take relationship.
My friends are not disposable assets.
You haven’t got a monopoly on insecurity, anxiety or the search for completeness.
Testosterone is not something I should have to apologise for.
When I will not take part in a fight, it’s because I don’t want the payback.
Phone call from Elle …
Use a God you Trust
“Hello.”
“You think that’s funny?”
…
“You think you’re so smart putting together those rules. Well, let me tell you you’re not. You’re a fool, Mat. You’re a joke. A laughing hyena. Let’s all laugh like a hyena. You don’t even have the intelligence of a hyena. You say I’m a whinger? That I don’t listen? Let me tell you who doesn’t listen. You. You’re autistic. Live in your own little universe. Expect the world to revolve around you. You’re pathetic. These rules are just another way for you to demand attention. You’re a little kid, making all these demands on me, never giving anything back. Do you realise what it’s like to be me? Do you know what it’s like to be with someone who shows no emotion? Who acts like this emotional mollusc? All showy on the outside but nothing, absolutely nothing, on the inside.
“I can’t believe you’d treat me like this. Like I’m some sort of imbecile, in need of your help, too dumb to understand anything. If you had any sort of feelings you wouldn’t treat me like this. You have no feelings. What are you? Some sort of lifeform with artificial intelligence? ‘Cause that’s what you remind me of when you resort to rules and lists and instructions like this. Like you’re some sort of machine and this is your Manual on Life.
“Only someone totally sick or up themselves needs to point out what someone else has done wrong. Think you’ve got all the answers, don’t you? Think you’re so smart. So perfect. You are so far from perfect it’s not funny. Who the hell do you think you are? Telling me how to live my life. Trying to control me. This is just another example of you acting like a control freak. Telling me what to do, what to say, how to think. Who do you think you are? God?
“Yeah, that’s right. You think you’re so good you’re up there with God. Know what? You love yourself too much to be up there with Him. God loves everyone except people like you who only love themselves. You’re not worthy of His love. Bet you don’t even believe in God. That you’re above such things. In fact, you’re the sort of person who’d go out of their way to destroy God. Or use Him for your own ends. Suck all the goodness out then spit out the shell. That’s it, isn’t it? You’ve got no use for God except to use Him then chuck Him away. Watch it, Mat. Your horns are showing ‒ and your forked tail.
“God can see right through people like you. He knows when there’s false worship. And He’ll get you for that. Luke was telling me the other day what a phoney you are. How everyone knows you’re a fake. Think you’re so tough but you’re really weak. Know what? You need help. You’re sick. Threatening me with your stupid list of rules. And what are you going to do if I don’t follow them? Give me the flick? Puh-lease. That’s pathetic. You don’t even know what a good thing you’ve got going with me. I can have anyone I want but I chose you. Know why, Mat?
…
“Mat?”
…
“’Cause I felt sorry for you. Thought I could help you. Make you feel important. What a fool. No one can help you Mat. Everyone’s against you. Everyone can see through your bullshit. Your lies. Your mask to hide behind. Your stupid rules. When you get to school and everyone ignores you, you’ll only have yourself to blame. You see, I put them up on Facebook. The whole world will know how pathetic you are. One big pathetic joke.
Cli-ckkk
“MAAATTTTTTT!”
Text message from Mat to Elle
&n
bsp; Text message from Elle
I ask myself why I stay. Why do I put up with this? I keep telling myself to leave her. To walk away. It’s not that easy. Besides, no one else would want me. And sometimes she’s great. Laughing, loving, caring. It’s like there’s two Elle’s. I keep hoping that the horrible one will leave and the nice one will stay.
This is my attempt to answer ‘yes’ to one of Mrs Poleki’s most basic philosophical questions: ‘Is it possible to know yourself?’
Never Try to Teach a Pig to Sing
Pigs have got to be the most misunderstood animals in the world …
Today they are seen as everything from sweet simpletons (Charlotte’s Web, The Three Little Pigs) to wicked tyrants (Animal Farm), plus the rare brave hero (Babe). Many people think of pigs as stupid, fat and messy. In fact, pigs are intelligent, friendly, clean and much more easy to train than cats or dogs. If they could speak this would be their war cry:
Pigs are the best,
Put them to the test.
Truffle hunting threat,
pigs are your bet.
Pigs are human, too. They’re not all wild and feral. They love to play and exercise. They love running, digging, splashing in puddles, and playing with other pigs. And they have to deal with all that nastiness over being horizontally challenged. So what happens when they are shunned from the herd?
Pigs will squeal, pigs will oink, pigs will grunt, snort and snuffle, but if it’s a tune you’re wanting to a soft-shoe shuffle? Forget it. Pigs can’t sing. Pigs won’t sing.
Why Pigs Won’t Sing:
1) Pigs are macho and ‘can handle it’
If they can survive being gouged by a wild boar they can survive the prodding from one sweet young sow.
2) Pigs don’t tell
If a pig tried to explain what life’s really like as a pig, no one would believe him. They’d rather believe the stereotype of a lazy, good-for-nothing swine.
3) Pigs are good at hiding, that is, real pigs don’t cry
Pigs would rather avoid coming home to the pen than have to face the reality of a putrid home life.
4) Shame
Pigs worry about what other boars, sows and piglets will think if they knew a sow had beat them up. Unlike runts, pigs know they should be able to defend themselves.
5) Self-worth
Pigs believe they deserve to be treated like pigs. Living with female swine is probably the best they can expect.
6) Denial
I’m not really a pig, I’m a prince in the wrong body.
7) Reluctance to give up the good
It’s not all bad. The sex is great and sometimes she’s a really decent porker.
8) Inertia
Better the bacon you know than the bacon you don’t know.
Attempting to teach a pig to sing can lead to Porcine Stress Syndrome (PSS). This is not to be confused with PMS (Porcine Mating Syndrome). Pigs should attempt to avoid both syndromes at all costs or suffer the consequences: Stress Death.
Elle’s Wall post: ‘I Hate Family Holidays’
I hate holidays. How could they do this to me? I don’t want to go. My cousins are so boring. After ‘How are you’ and ‘How’s school’ there’s nothing left to say. I hate the way I’ll have to be fake-nice to everyone. It sucks how everyone’s always in a bad mood. They’re all such crazies but they keep turning things around, blaming me. It’s always my cousin’s birthday and there’s always a group of tone-deaf family members singing Happy Birthday in unison. And I’ll be expected to give her a present even though I’m broke and don’t like her. Maybe I’ll take the Bake and Destroy approach to her cake. All that pretending to be nice stuff is a load of crap. And right now my brother is the most selfish person in the world. He ‘s so jealous and competitive and is always trying to compete against me even though I’m not in competition with anyone, he doesn’t care about anyone. I wish I could just dump him and move on.
Read this on Elle’s Facebook Wall and feel kinda sorry for her. I know how much family and holidays can suck. Although I don’t get the brother thing. I so wish I had a brother.
Letter from Mat – Age 7
When Elle got back I asked her to see this movie that’s just come out, a comedy, thinking it would cheer her up.
What is Wrong With This Picture?
A) There’s a curl in the middle of the boy’s forehead.
B) The girl is wearing pearls.
C) The boy is wearing a tie to a movie.
D) The boy’s tie matches the girls dress.
E) All of the above.
Mrs Potika would suggest I think about biases in our point of view. I’m with her on this one.
Mrs Potika tells us that at the core of philosophy lies a concern with truth and a clarity of understanding. Not sure if I understand too well, but my message is clear with this poem.
If I Don’t Cry Tears, I’ll Cry Bullets
If I say the wrong thing, do the wrong thing
From out of nowhere … my whole face stings
Pulls my hair, is so full of it
If I don’t cry tears, I’ll cry bullets
Always accusing
Always confusing
Always abusing
Abusing me
Smiling one minute, snarling the next
Best mate, lover, oversexed
Brain chemistry for irrationality
A Jeckyl and Hyde personality
Always accusing
Always confusing
Always abusing
Abusing me
The name of the game is subjugation
Throw in a dose of humiliation
You think I deserve some retribution
You are upsetting to my constitution
Always accusing
Always confusing
Always abusing
Abusing me
According to society I can’t be a victim
Girls don’t hit boys. That’s a dictum
What’s the matter? You being a wimp?
Would like to meet up, with your pimp.
They say I should leave but I don’t know how to
They say I’m a fool, a big fat coward
They say I should never have hooked up with you
They say if I stay you will tear me in two.
Aggro
Psycho
Sicko
Bitch
Aggro
Psycho
Sicko
Bitch
I’m scared if I cry I just won’t stop
But if I don’t I’ll go over the top
If I don’t cry tears, I’ll cry bullets
Take that you bitch. You’re so full of it.
Text Message from Elle
[This is so typical of Elle. Miss Nasty Nice.]
Text Message from Elle (twenty seconds later)
Text Message from Elle (seventeen seconds later)
Mrs Potika’s heavily accented voice rings in my head: “Of the many contradictions that exist in the world, the contrast between love and hate is perhaps the starkest.”
Text Message from Mat to Elle
Text Message from Elle
Text Message from Mat
Text Message from Elle
Text Message from Elle
Text Message from Mat
Ten Things I Hate About Me
I hate myself for what you do.
I hate myself for letting you.
I hate myself for clinging on.
I hate I’m grateful for a crumb.
I hate the way I live in hope.
I hate that you take me for a dope.
I hate the angel I first fell for.
I hate the new one, such a hell whore.
I hate the way that I’m invisible.
I hate that you think I’m so quizzical.
Email to Mat from Elle
Kiss Kill
Lover sentenced to die
September 3, 1:53 am EDT
Shanghai
(Reuters) – A woman who killed her lover with a pill laced with rat poison after she suspected he’s been unfaithful has been sentenced to death.
Ling Lisheng of Nanxian in the province of Shanghai, passed a capsule filled with rat poison from her mouth to Zhong Xinlou, her lover, during a kiss reports the Shanghai News.
After swallowing the pill Zhong died soon after.
The newspaper reports that the couple made a pact. If either of them cheated on the other they would have to die. When Ling found Mao ‘laughing with another woman’ she deemed that he had broken their pact and had to die.
I read this over and over, wondering why she sent it?
Man-Up
Phone call from Jonno …
Jonno: Mattie, old mate. How’s things? You missing Elle?
Mat: Hmmph. More than she’s missing me.
Jonno: What d’you mean?
Mat: Got this postcard saying “Wish you were here”. Then she crossed it out and added, “Not.”