ho are you? I wonder... Me? I'm
eneath a flyover that snakes its way
wn of Halifax (I'll let you decide
). It's a quarter past twelve AM and
home in Abbey Park (about three
of the moths dance across my stories
s. Here I've written published pieces
s familiar with my name and work and
fore today - but everything accepted
ightmares from the real universe
? Or could it be that everybody
her. Whether this dairy will be of
similarly debatable question. Good
ing the first entry and all. If I
some kind of conclusion, forgive me
I don't know how easy it is to keep
ask me why I don't buy a car or a
the Tunnel and back home again. You
hoofing around at this time of night
t? Psychos! rapists! werewolves!
outa their holes at the same time.
. Moths simply dance and the tunnel
ou walk more than ten yards without
you're pretty hellishly weird. Thing
y fails to understand is the amount
ghts walk. Problems, riddles, ideas,
tand have - many times - clicked into
eetlights, or as my footsteps have
s unwound. Found.
oking for shelter and I haven't been
e because I want to be here. I like
ead: drive, ride, bus it home... home
uman and not think of each other.
lace. It's not very big, not really,
fely across the daylight-busy tarmac.
- past that, a DIY superstore. Down
a filthy, cobbled road to an ancient
k squares either end. Park near the
begin- stop- and then turn and run.
walk home in the morning mist.
hour to scribble that. Writing can
irst bit though, I think.
urse. If anything happens on the way,
g I'm not in Intensive Care.
ot something: Chesters. Stuart
ing I bet.
too. It's because I write, that's
ployed, that's another strong one;
But there's more... Something I
t. I think perhaps- oh hang on
ked through, staring at me all the
was... He grunted.
enage responsibilities such as work,
mainly because I've realised I have
t were). Older readers, or you
than the majority might have some
w can I explain?
r the Tunnel and observe people.
o plague and tease, maybe even...
ered through, panting wheezily, eyes
idn't really look at me. Animals
nd it's kittens scuttle on past with-
Oh yeah: myself.
ents about seven months ago, after
on, which involved my mum and my
is fifteen; four years younger than
thing I can do is write short
either too sick to print or too
on. This makes me pretty talentless
red from three jobs since I left the
ome to the conclusion that, not only
unemployable. I take creativity way
lish, the other in Graphics, and on
Not bad for a guy who's ambition used
iversity, not because I wouldn't like
he confidence and don't have any
ational rejects: Gemma Forrest, an
who has sex with anything in
ng raped (and she was once, as far as
fore you ask); Steven Warwick, a
crowd layabout who collects billion
ot me sussed (but he hasn't); Tim
old who lives with his braindead,
told me this, thinks Manchester's in
ecause, like Steve, he's very
of my gory fiction; and lastly,
t the DIY store up on Pellon Lane.
the list: she's become what I would
younger than me, a late-developer I
looks about twelve) but despite her
t and mature - she could do a hell of
ll nine hours a day, of that there's
she's worked a late shift, she comes
e for a while. I enjoy our
cord the next one down when it
, just to see what she does. I don't
ore... Though I'm probably wrong.
with her parents in the Canary
a fortnight, so she told me a couple
ve the balls to tell her this but...
er like crazy).
ing very cold. Tomorrow I'll tell you
mise you'll keep reading. I have much
nd so much more is going to happen.
midnight, I stalked two teenage
of their heads and giggling like
e Tunnel they muted themselves for a
en out it came:
down the Tunnel.
ult, viciously intensified by the
kind of thing you'd expect might
in a school classroom when the
tty and scantily dressed, and I
lously, (excitedly?) until they
the Tunnel. Then, I closed my note-
ehind to hide in the shadows, and yet
my shoes to ring as a distant menace
wn Crib Lane, kicking each other,
oad and back again (one even threw
on their careless, chaotic wandering
t seeing the desperate faces of
rejected and abused... And my
riend - Karen. `How have you earned
thought. `Where did you buy your
into being more careful on the
be evil? Hell, do really, honestly
ve put up with a hell of a lot of
ut the feelings or opinions of
ake unfair advantage of the innocent
lready? What gives them the right? A
ivine lottery of fate?
unken sniggering and playfighting
not. They increased their speed, kept
to each other. Head down, I just
Streetlights buzzed. Footsteps
else was around.
flyover, we were nothing but midges.
he steps would appear that led up to
d up there, no matter how late the
had to do it soon. Immediately.
to a sprint, I noticed the pair had
elves on a low wall. They were
roach like Kittens in a cardboard
wn. Passing them wasn't right. What
, I had to go along with my feelings
take - if afterwords it felt wrong -
. Halted. I looked up. The girls
eyed and shivering. Slowly, quietly,
appened. The three of us stared out
istening to the hum of hidden
- excitement- rage- the world shook
ode in a fountain of glass. I lashed
aws, raking through hair, splitting
ng trainers. The first shriek of
. Surely this could not be
h way round was natural? Not this
led them in fours, the other
ion sparkling with balls colour, I
d down, down onto cold brick.
into her stomach. She gargled,
the other girl had gone- vanished-
her, grabbed a breast- squeezed it-
hink I said (it's hard to remember).
soul, never never never, or you are
words came out steadily, but in
g- desirous to rape- to torture- to
g immoral to this pathetic moth that
il her breast was completely flat
igging into flesh. The girl's eyes
I felt my other hand fumbling for my
I was going to- I was going to-
... And ran. Ran, ran, ran... Where,
o the hell am I? What gives me the
tonight, I'd better head home. If
'm an okay guy, as you'll soon see.
th me today and added some graffiti
SS CONFUSION" I wrote... Done all
bly writing. My A-level in graphic
es, you know.
raffiti in the Tunnel at this moment
"Moore ON Tour 90", "Smoke POT- it's
ere", "I love TSO 92" (in jagged
", "Cheekie Chappies!", and of course
unoriginal - "Kay&Jonny", complete
ing out from beneath the &.
of Halifax before. I do not feel good
re... "mine" now. Like an animal
s or shit or something.
ses walked through the subway after
ece. He was pissed through (it's only
't look at me at all. He reminded me
ror stories. Strange - maybe he was.
es won't stay open. This job (job?)
I'll live. Friday tomorrow, should
ly, Gemma. We'll see.
than usual to catch the drunks as
ot kicked once and spat on three
isistible name-calling attacks) but I
eir pathetic and pointless sins one
at about half past eleven. With no
proached, I felt my skin dampen: what
his fuckin homework or summing?"
males swarming her, licking her ears,
rs old and still studying at school.
frightened of the term "work" and
opes of higher education for as long
she expects to use her eventually
no idea. Still, I'm not one to
. And let's be fair - no matter how
ex, Gemma is still a little girl.
er. The surrounding males barked with
g hilariously funny. I ignored them
laugh or argue about anything they
entually) result in them completely
chorus and tottered around, waiting
on hearing my usual, negative
I said with an impatient sigh (the
of braindead males than for her).
: obviously I was either stupid or
owd had calmed, Gemma wormed herself
me, face gazing into mine.
to judge girls like that... Smooth
f touching in case it's just make-up
ingers, and beautiful blue eyes...
, if you stare for long enough.
rior and what've you got? A human
sed of a short black skirt, a thin
bra through it) and a dark denim
ow her hefty chest to poke through.
emale and here's the proof"? "Gemma,
silly little girl, I'm just not
on them for a start.")
. Opened it again. "Ah, nothing."
?" That came with a smile.
el yet?" She's always asking me that
- according to Gemma - unless he's
ook when you start it?"
s had given up on her and drifted on
but I could see faint shadows waving
he northern box.
a fucking bastard," she muttered.
Why'd you sit under this stupid
I snapped. "I've told you, I'm not
bugger off with your boyfriends."
bitch. I can imagine at this stage
the hell my problem is. I ought to
important, my real, inner-feelings
nd with those of Gemma's. Second, I
emales that have, for that past three
pissants from the scummiest depths
nd). Third, I consider myself a very
ho ho, good joke, right? Right.
not interested. How many times do I
h her away and she ended up grabbing
he insisted. "Don't you fucking lie
more. And then she jumped on me.
e I must admit. Threatened to do it -
but never actually physically thrown
k of perfume and beer, and as we
she dug her teeth into my neck. I
pain to clear a guy's thoughts.
ed round, extracted, pushed, chin up,
her head between my knees.
err... OFF me!"
juices don't you? Eh?"
're hurting my ears-"
e spit onto my lips and let it build
ke she was hypnotized.
ed... And fell.
t slap! on her upper lip. She closed
ill unaware of the escape route
rhaps... No. I don't think she wanted
ace. She caught it on her cheeks, her
ied to spit back, as if unnaffected.
eyes twinkled... This attack was a
e turned on.
pizza bombshelled her forehead - and
adows and voices. I clambered off
uely aware of being congratulated by
first class face-shower.
ds unless my parents are rowing.
eing Gemma... Head jammed between my
under the light of the Tunnel.
oths flutter and I wonder... Have
Sunday - God said - is the day when
nts saying how shit and hopeless
w magnificent and promising and
is/is going to be? No, probably not.
manuscript and it was late
in from school and I could hear Mum
his shoes off before he walking into
opped in the hallway. Mum and Richard
me. I tiptoed up to the livingroom
ou to become like him... Wasting his
ries... REAL career, REAL job...
only glad I was eighteen when I
n; any younger and I might have taken
caping the house with the bang of the
footsteps were quick. They had to be;
t, and I was both.
e street. The sky was white, the
[blue?] cars were droning by. "No,
doesn't like me. Hasn't that twigged
s a mistake."
. "Stu, no! That's not true!"
en faster. Richard jogged to catch up
snatched away, teeth together. If he
burst into tears too, and then before
um at my knees, begging for a
.. I'd be right where I was (where
, house, I mean, Stu, I wanna read
a moment, thought about apologising,
h and blood crouched sobbing in the
I roam the streets alone what am I
e table with Richard what the hell am
n words published am I supposed to
nd throw it away what am I supposed
at am I supposed to do what am I
have no feelings. Adults are evil in
cts. Be a child and you can pass
's eyes and it... Hurts. Why else
morning hours writing shit nobody
ting this for ARE my parents. When
eep. Weep weep weep cry burn in Hell
e done to your own son.
CK YOU UP THE ARSE
with no love whatsoever.
tchett. You want monsters and ghosts
grounds, look up James Herbert or
elf many times (nothing wrong with
r arse down on ice cold stone when
peak and write under the Drug Tunnel
the overhead lights and the chatter
closer, new questions about horror
ever read this, because I've done
ritten with no market in mind, no
ls to confine me. And yet my chosen
ge essay? I don't know. I don't give
re has actually happened, but it's
fictional style; there are self-
plete with dialogue and
f you look at it that way. I've used
uch imagery as I can. You need
ple, not just a block of boring text.
to understand: feelings, emotions,
g dramatic, huh?
ribbling shite for the past few days.
er, I'm not going to edit anything
with me, you're with my feelings. I
I might slip away like that again.
ch more to tell.
t fun that was. Just when I thought I
anti-skirt, along comes Mr Knowitall
broad spectrum of hatred.
of alcohol. I shuffled away. He
hrough here without being pissed?
CHRIST: Question of the month.
He turned away, as if in repulse.
amental twat: when he first arrives
rmless questions. Nice company. Then
my trolley". He proceeds to declare
d goes on and on and on, until I
or walk off. It's always the same
Surely not. I looked at Steve through
ebody touched you up when-"
're gonna talk, talk quietly and
your own sick ideas. Understand?"
uth? I haven't got a sister!"
ths. "Something musta happened. This
"FUCK OFF, cunt."
beyond all normality. It's never
rything seems to have really...
ince I began this diary. Quite odd,
est last Friday."
shag anybody last Friday."
moths as it fluttered against the
until it fell on the floor and began
wasn't so interesting then.
got your dick out and spunked all
spat in her face, alright? I spat."
? I felt like repeatedly whacking him
nsciousness, then pissing in his
ing. My teeth scraped together.
y escape, and a good job it is too;
I really would have repeatedly
pissed in his mouth: I'm a fucking
your lucky stars I found writing,
teve whispered, more to himself than
bout something. No change there. "You
u. You've gotta be past fifty to
perience and all that. You've nothing
He looked at me again, his goatee
nds. "What ever you want to say...
fore. Everything in the world has
hat when he first came out with it
ot a point I suppose - most things
ered or destroyed. Only the super-
technology - or the incredibly rich
audible voice in the world.
I told Steve in an equally soft
birds. The lights buzzed.
il. Flicked it. "Why what?"
t. Why this!" His voice echoed the
intlessness. Take religions which
ample... Like, say, Christianity.
le wasn't/weren't willing to accept
xistence - so they scribbled down a
All-Powerful Spirit) being the ruler
/their blindingly obvious fictional
ns of sad pricks believe in it all.
but then again, isn't everything?)
dea of a young, fairly attractive,
ay during the early hours of the
o a notebook for absolutely no reason
n't fit. And it doesn't fit with
ren, I don't think). There >HAS< to
activity... I've been molested,
e house, shouted at, I'm afraid of
a whore, I'm attracting my peers'
easons for my being here is
ended any one of them was true he'd
cracked me. I reckon I'd never see
f his complex jigsaws.
ter my silence. "I'll sort you next
ff home. Sure you're not walkin up
ered off down the Tunnel. He came
the wrong way.
ight. A couple of other bodies have
writing this but to be quite
. It wasn't just my knackered brain.
ello, then hello again, then "Gemma,
we?" but she didn't stop, didn't sit
Not that I had her in the first
right I suppose.
iend, but she was human... And the
er was roll about on the floor of
ing in her face. What I bastard I am.
)... I think-
probably like me to]
m for the past half hour. Haven't
or an alarm installing company, has
ll, when I first met him I admired
addest, most cornered pissants on the
astard to boot.
the only job he can get. He hates it
e has to keep money coming in from
iend pregnant his parents chucked him
feels like to be chucked out by your
y one thing in common: they're both
shag like rabbits.
. They share none of the same
n the other stands up. Doesn't work,
t? Can he bollocks. The only thing
ick and she's got a fanny. In out in
e hokey cokey and you fuck up your
anything from our conversation. We
ew and old), about books and stories,
could use in my forthcoming fiction,
mother. "Jobs are okay," I remember
teresting for the first week or two
rest of your life."
was her impatient response --> That,
est attractions about becoming a
a "job" as such, there are no set
d the pay (at least, for your first
ition on the employment market]
hing worth relating.
, you know. Funny how things can
avel through the murky teenage
here were times when Tim slapped me
g myself... And yet he was sat here
watch] chatting to me like we've
k horror story I'd written myself out
nd gob-dropped class, Tim got great
as a punch-bag. After "Bleeding
started talking to me about horror
asked me one strange and bitterly
reply [it had to be a trick]. As it
ous. We became good mates. He even
to ask him why he'd punched the shit
Fascinated me, it did, how anybody
d-invented fiction and turn from bad
fuck - and still doesn't to this
bastard when everything's boiled
hy I hang out in the Tunnel for so
s blind to the fact that he's partly
hdrawn childhood was panel-beaten
people like him. Every slap, every
se ----> it's all still in me, some-
a life-scarring trauma - many people
me kind of thing, and far worse - but
ust cannot see it.
ent my childhood thinking about
ng them down as incidents in stories,
diary of a murderer instead of a
im likes my fiction: with out it, he
use his own description) --> stuck
dead, perhaps: me, his Frankensteins
Dim. He's average company, and - I
he's not the kind of guy to spice up
ve reacted to my often bizzare and
ce at which you regularly spend time
school, the local library, your
e is bound to crop up sooner or
one on that one.
ken it's time appearing in my dreams.
yself sitting in a mind-rendered
ins moths which have my "friends'"
here's a reason).
sat cross-legged in the middle of
a lighter (up-down) between my eyes.
mpletely naked - and there were three
arked in a neat line just ahead of
nes, and wrapped around each was a
, and a picture of a sky-blue car
eral times, which is why I went into
gworth this morning and bought myself
going into supermarkets - they're
ainwashing deathtrap, full of stuck
d, though nobody seems to notice,
- rattling and scuttling and nibbling
ck-racks. But I'll tell you about
ail World in general - another time.
nt things to discuss).
course, paid a visit to the "Wines &
orror!' guess what I found...
to know the wine is the exact same
before he popped his cloggs, hence
een on a hectic fishing trip and
real dreamscape which I am now - on
cally reacting to.
mpty. A good excuse to down the wine
ost me nearly a month's dole). Right
away beneath an off-putting thorne
und they're gonna get found, but
ention the average by-the-side-of-the
ere and the path's sacred: if you
deep shit. Yeah, right).
l of the Tunnel, just like the one I
back at school. Only better - and
ion. Why? It's only a horse with a
tastic about that? What makes it so
ing. Nothing except the way it looks.
nd walked naked through the Tunnel.
ird, almost painful `prickling'
sed those teenage girls a while ago
y hard and cold against my skin.
oise of occasional vehicles made me
urbated, then got dressed. Nobody
never do that again. I don't feel
I think it'll be worth keeping you
ne. There must be a reason for it.
as you when/if I find out).
eeping Tom today (I'm not only
you know - I'm squeezing out some
rprised, but I feel disappointed,
d to handle when I was attending the
onths ago (before it closed down due
was one of the few "clubs" I've ever
s concerning writer's groups: one or
ls can dominate and even destroy what
and healthy workshop; they can become
simply writing to and for each other;
ntionally) hostile and off-putting to
st too "nice" (any work read out
around the table).
eem to be heading off in any of these
eading out my, shall we say "sicker"
sponses to the set tasks.
alone the workshop seemed like heaven
rough the door was met by a huge
iter! Yes! It was as though I had at
to keep in touch by sending mail to
few people who regularly attended,
't nullified by a workshop, or taken
else for that matter. They're just
think I'll ever understand why a
happenings) can possibly be rejected
le, badly laid out manuscript, some-
ieces floating around, plus a full
r more than three months ago called
e novel: he reckons it kicks the shit
on today's market, but what the hell
n get a book published. Not anymore,
ht & name-based. Too commercial.
competitions because of the language
my eyes this sucks: where's the
led old fuckstains who haven't a clue
ction = modern language, you prune-
at twigged yet? Just because I don't
d's tea & biscuit party doesn't mean
is all rejected, that's it. No more
re attempts at "breaking through".
n, the best work I've ever done, so
that, hell, why dream of
talent, I know I don't. I think too
rough the Tunnel tonight. So I've
heir homes more vunerable? At night
lock up at night - some even alarm
y, anybody could open the front door
thoughts intact makes you realise
ebody insane - me perhaps? - to walk
ndom, to open a front door, it
ide, to close up behind, to creep, to
lf-analysis aren't I? Not to mention
ages. I don't know whether that's a
oked at writing as a form of therapy,
ready said a lot of what I'm writing
book, Psychotic Dreams.
t as well tell you a little about
if it does get accepted for
y edits and additions and God-knows-
much point taking a week or so out
nding name - Psychotic Dreams is
t, so why fuss?]
lf-autobiographical; after over-
my brother, I went into suicide-mode
al different ways.
eople think teenagers are perfectly
destructive phase. It's just standard
kill yourself did you? What
?' On the surface - to the outside
. Maybe it is trivial, or something
a death occurs is it? It's not so
s torn to emotional shreds. If, on
to suicide, think about that one.
a great, chain-reacting power. A
er. A power that, once freed, can
mising book about the confessions of
hort urban life has been one of abuse
dreams are his only escape from a
tally raped him of all forms of
escapes... And learns to solidify
eeble threads of hope remain, only to
he outside world. He decides to
psychotic, perverted fantasies --->
Murder. Animal cruelty. Child sex.
s like it ought to be banned, it
nd perhaps it is... But it was either
n another, I don't think I want her
ain. Something's gone wrong. Some-
y gone wrong.
r bodies seem thicker. Their heads...
r, they're just... More defined.
The clatter of Gemma.
o weary to write.
no... Wasn't Gemma. Was Dianne.
nds in pockets. Shivering I think...
hrough clouds of supergiant moths. I
in lap, pen pointed at the roof, and
ce versa as she came out of the
vandalpattern wall opposite. Her
iant wing shadows spun webs across
she said, "Please... I need to know
nnocent voice. My book eased
shivering and breathless - as I rose
air and the Tunnel bugs from my skin.
guy- who- like-"
tentionally threatening. I was the
s. Tendrils of smoke rising from my
l shifted her feet. Scratched an
ps with her tongue.
t furiously. `I want to steal you
uty into a thousand pieces. Girl girl
member, if- if you-" She took a deep,
self whisper. A strong, confident,
't give me your shit, Chesters, you
d with streaks of red desperation,
d, she fell- "Why am I pregnant why
ty as a perfect vaccum. My heart.
w many times must I scribble bull-
s insane mothnest? Here, on the floor
nesense reality of truth.
page after page of pathetic lies]
idn't..." I crouched, made as if to
les, no words of comfort, no escort
s ice hung forever between us.
tasies and ruthless riddle-thought.
erness of drink and an invisible
ty teenage male, asleep from
with the flicker of TV in his closed
ng colourful wordshit smeared across
into the Tunnel through the northern
then slow, staring as he passed.
oing out here you two friends? or
her, smiling a true smile. Her eyes
g blind, charcoaling speech. What
he sound of a petrified lifeform,
abouts, it's own jarred existence.
ld I was confused just confused
her upper legs, her stomach, between
THE THOUGHTS I WILL NOT ALLOW YOU TO
YOU SAW HER LEGS]
Not me, never... I would never do
acked out for a few seconds. Went
- did some... Things. But never, I
erhaps you aren't, perhaps it's just
instantly triggered nightmare had
mistake. I grinned when I realized
ger be an all-destroying sea of dark
reading the walls. "Cath & Kim",
": the marks of a hundred people
"Stu & Dianne", I thought of
ood, or when normality crept back...
ld. Run. Run like the wind!]
obbled across the floor, climbing to
craper. "Bye." She waved.
come back if you want to talk," I
rn box in silence, like a traveller
- back to her own, alien universe.
does the same; from the moment they
y into the darkness, they are in MY
slice of this rotten, battered
an't write anymore. I'll be better
I wouldn't. There's more good in me
thing "wrong" with me. You try
y night. It soon gets to you.
re. Sometimes I think it's better to
n try to write them down... Ah I
? I can't I can't I can't.
last entry was a bastard to write.
e beginning of this diary, I never
a visit from each of my "friends" and
- prose as a result of Karen's return
ing). I mean come on, I've lingered
bowl of a toilet for nearly a whole
Very little outside, anyway. In my
ction here between reacting to the
ything down as it goes on. If I don't
e? I'll be buggered if I know. I'm
visit, so there's little I can tell
g herself sorted, or in so much of a
(s) I've become the last person on
r my name. I know that wasn't perhaps
word - "Here Dianne, kill me! Kill me
so gave her my trust. And I ask you,
t. She left the Tunnel two days ago
teve Country - but it's taken until
e through here. Sometimes many nights
gle soul. Oh, cars drift by up on the
. But very often, nobody comes.
tely empty. I'll start on the last
re for... But when the vehicles above
glancing at that strange blue-car
Cars disturb them, make them shoot
concrete like ping-pong balls in
ike cars either.
sign of Dianne. Or Karen. Or anybody
as so full of drunks I didn't spend
ant to get into any shit, not after
cally tonight, like there's some kind
ing. The lighter: perhaps it's a tool
Jeez. They'd no longer be moths of
erally. Sounds like good fun.
t've arrived late, or taken the day
he will be back (hopefully)... God I
esent really stem from the past, or
ased on the logic of time?
a "traumatic/damaging experience" has
brief (and, perhaps more import-
l rejection... There are none of
in the deepest chasms of my brain,
, none of that.
ing honest? Well... Who am I writing
bly non-existant audience... Or just
parents and brother. If they're the
ccept it... But... Is it possible to
extreme lengths of time due to the
curtain" (temporary mental illness?)
e has become the truth: I sincerely
ng that nothing "traumatic" has
this means, if I am lying to myself,
ver it is that DID happen.
hat about Karen? No.... Neither of
least, not that I know of.
t they do? Are the attributes "good"
net, every human being is "neutral"
sive, aggressive genes)... ie:
there must be a certain age - perhaps
inging (nurture, basically) - at
y - or consciously? - "decides"
situated more towards "good" than
point...? Or is it winging up and
ood? Is this state of imbalance any
this "neutral point" found? Who is to
m I tottering around on this line
n't know what, but something is. This
all for anything.
ng is predefined by no-"
row, when I hope I'll be able to tell
uion with Karen.
my friends, for Sunday is the day
and fuck all will happen to anybody."
rlier than usual. It's still daylight
nstead of black ones... Just bigger
... Not yet. I never see them arrive.
he next- POOMF! the air is alive with
ust. Where do they come from?
) pass through at this kind of hour.
ng at me as per usual. They're afraid
you know. Can't be sure of course,
ome wandering in through a black box,
lice can't enter this dimension).
rape or a murder down here wouldn't
ce station. Ha! Blind bastards...
Blind what ever they do. Hell,
ome wine. Come on Kaz...
Dianne just then. I was scribbling
saw a shadow in the nothern box. As
dow and the feeling of being watched
d like her, it did, I swear to God it
e of course.
rge dog. Came half-way into the
p! What the fuck am I hanging about
for what a BITCH! Fuck fuck fuck fuck
k fuck fuck fuck fuck f
st night. Shame you can't erase ink
ght (this morning, rather)... Him and
the piss out of me, of course. Got me
uptight ---> Hell, you know the
eel as if I'm being dragged too close
hatever that might entail). Am I
sk stupid questions, forgive me: I
things that matter, and even then I
ting I've become a very lonely and
t mind admitting it's not my fault.
rybody else did. Where's the wrong in
fingers and grow up?
w much more?
ive at thirteen; I got laid when I
when my "mates" were still having
es - it's not my fault, okay? IT'S
to get anywhere in life? Hell, DO you
ream, or is that yet another fucking
n. What is normal? Is normal wanting
e, a rosy garden, a handful of kids,
? Stop coming to this place? Stop
Perhaps I'm a cut above the rest. I
f nightclubbing, girlhunting,
y other multi-named activities
le. I'm happy... And yet not happy...
rned up and as confused as buggery,
akes you want to spit; nightclubs are
faces when you first walk in through
never quite what you dreamt it would
have plenty of that]
king good in your mate's eyes. But
f, now. Who would understand and who
ly, unexplainably found yourself in
attractive to our eye-
rselves are most important-
s. I've never noticed before. A
g beside the head of my unicorn. I
re they are now? S'nothing on the
ger them out, obliterating the memory
in a dream? Did the moths do
on't like what she said at all.
CHESTERS FUCK THE BITCH]
remember who they all are?
This isn't a book. There is no plot.
ng: I can remind you when ever I
ne" of my world. You need to know
n reason this diary exists.
r over all. Even love. When misused,
Both can of course be illusionary...
therefore so often a cheap, pathetic
ll ever whisper that to her. Why say
les my age would not look twice at
and rejection in her greenblue eyes.
image of the crystal clear perfection
y the present youth population. If
won't have anything at all. If what
e, they won't have anything at all.
ingly attractive by several members
attractive members of the opposite
Good? Important? Special?
sements on TV declare: if you're in
control of your life. But looks are
h a beauty catalogue prior to being
t we must naturally keep. Forever.
eption, perhaps. Because I show no
f attracted to me: it's NOT the way
challenge for her. She believes I'm
nd I believe - in many ways - I'm
y eyes slide down her body as she
se holds me back.
ted to Gemma?
company, I respect the girl. But I
way she talks. I don't like the way
shness, her ignorance, her periodic
o be sexually involved with her. When
t laughed: I was nothing, nothing at
nobody knew my name: that's all that
moderate success as a writer and saw
in the shadows, did she allow me to
er of expectation.
x down here. I'm no longer asleep.
y little peer-tides. No, kiddo: I'm
t a skinny white twig of a child -
Decision: the Eleven Plus Year. It'd
her back then - I didn't of course -
but she still caught my eye; I don't
mpossible to imagine I could feel so
n and I would meet again and become
friends destined to fall in love
ly don't know.
t to a rough school called Holmfield
stroll from where I still live to
n passed the all-important test (or
hen I got offered a place at sixth
ted school called North Halifax
ar there... And yet physically she
ppose it happens sometimes. Boys and
an she had no tits whatsoever, not
first exchanged words with Karen. She
studing God-knows-what in the
picked up a book at random ("Human
chose another) and wandered over to
ed down she jumped and I apologised.
d if I sit here?"
and staring, as if her brain had hit
ugh it's filing cabinets. When her
he'd found me. You can't forget some
to them. You just can't.
d a few hellos in the corridors for
I got the piss taken out of me for
rth year tart" so for a while
id my best to avoid contact with
didn't understand the appalling
, frenetic talker, something which
g with her. Throughout her childhood
ike me, a very minor amount of true,
es talk very quickly (and she'll be
s a voice I find... Wonderful. Just
e sixth form, we'd become very good
r with our homework down the deserted
fter school (Karen doesn't live very
ut my writing and she showed great
estions for a few (admittedly
ted down simply because she'd been
k it was just a teenage fetish - when
me a fantastic legend.
my manuscripts to read - beginning,
nd building up to my more intense,
the time I left school we were ready
either of us poured anything out. One
in the direction of partners and
hered up enough confidence to direct
t shame, because I think we're STILL
never look at or desire any other
e my perfect partner. Another stupid
f I masturbated over a girl I knew
t with" with that girl - it was the
ood, "existing-person" wank. By the
orm I'll bet there was only Gemma and
f my list... It was as though I was
ng "no, I won't jack off over you
d and hormones under control, I'm not
. When you're shuffling up through
a girl becomes the most important
st, way above exams - but now?
in the schoolboy kind of way. But...
am she must must must be mine.
nel earlier this year, and stopped
ch other for about five months, so
the night. I walked her home: one of
e ever had. Company, that's all she
t at eight o'clock, and either runs
s to the Tunnel and talks to me until
er bus due. I hate all vehicles
nk I've said before, but in Karen's
transport is quite understandable:
cash till, I don't think I'd be up to
Karen and I hugged for the first time
ms, like I could crush her if I put
sure. This, I fully expected: her
es her precious to me... Like a rare
being destroyed - ruined - by the
gers. I was as gentle as I have been
and this pleased me. I think a kiss
nose against her cheek, but alas, we
wn opposite each other on the floor
in hand, Karen with a bright yellow
me, nothing but her usual, empty
, not caring much; she shouldn't have
huge deserts all over the island,"
like the Sahara, only not as hot or
as fuckin cool, yeah. Like- really
in my book. Waited. Glanced. Her eyes
ore. She has a way of looking at me -
look - which I find mysteriously
ng. Those who believe personality is
y "eject" from a person and "insert"
every twitch, every move, EVERYTHING
ing this entry for two and a quarter
ything about Karen. She borders on
ugh description of her appearance? A
d motivations? I could give you each,
and observe: it's by far the best
nd analysis in today's society. Hell,
n this bastard diary]
and tossed a small, shiny keyring
led it through my fingers. It was
a picture of a beach at sunset and
colourfully inside. "I know it's not
I had hardly any money and my mum
I begged. I saw this fuckin ace hat
e cool serpents kinda curlin round
ly I couldn't afford so I got you a
ou think? I think it's nice."
g that didn't sound too much like
nt to be: I still treasure Karen's
in freezing." I laughed too. "Of
you could fry an egg on the floor.
y an egg on the floor cos it'd get
, I suppose it would."
eah, so anyway... I went swimming in
cause the sand kinda sloped down
e it started you know? Only this
r maybe German... But I think he was
o me and helped me swim back to the
cool twisty kinda dive-thing and
ut her obviously much-enjoyed
e sound of her amazing child-woman
point in recalling every event.
an usual, and I looked up from a
in my book as I listened. But Karen
, and didn't look like she was going
ll tell you next time, maybe."
Hey, have you written any more
eagerly, ignoring her question.
you got anythin for me to read or
ories and your book and stuff?"
't actually believe I'm gonna get a
ou? They won't write back Karen, they
a dumb teenager."
t know you're a teenager."
. They will. I'm not experienced
he yelled, echoing the Tunnel. The
fuckin negative all the time okay?
e positive. They WILL reply because I
... Anyway," She stood and looked
r I'll miss my bus. S'been nice.
who's this somebody you met?"
e. "What- you met a bloke out there?"
rget it!" she began to walk away.
y wrist has gone numb I will see you
med up. Here's something I haven't
here Karen works. It was my second
erson (my first being at a branch of
people there were so stuck up I quit
asted about a month, working after-
he first week I thought it was okay -
shivers up my spine - and then a new
everything went haywire.
, the way I looked, the way I stacked
d my fucking pencil. In the end I
stupid fat arse and left - setting
he warehouse alight on my way home.
hilst I'm on the subject, lasted just
ry position with a re-vamp crew who
a massive new supermarket just out
ifts which is how I came to find this
it just wasn't for me: I got
le of tools (I never was any good at
spread by the gaffer himself - the
girlie bastard. I thought that kind
it's ugly head in school playgrounds.
ly mad and trashed the half-
down shelves and cupboards and
showed up when I'd done, narrow-eyed
ll do you think you're doing?" he
bizzare (and horribly self-indulgent)
d's next Stephen King and that one
WHSmiths with a copy of my latest
for a signature. Of course, the guy
rted to a loud "Go home and fuck your
UIT you fat cunt!" before he could
ck. They drain your life away like
pany's lips by some kinda gigantic,
. I call it the Vortex
lly polite lady in a fur coat just
!" in a gorgeously cheerful and
ODD? Sorry about this. Let me pick
n't like about Karen is her apparent
four months of full-time work I think
oms. Extended chat (yes, even for
ing products, barcodes and prices is
fore she went on holiday she was
erful things we used to talk about -
oing to change the world... Nothing
anymore. I gave her a redraft of the
- she took it home and brought it
lied that she'd read it. I know
the new nightmare sequence' I'd put
derful'... Only I hadn't written a
course (though I often wonder if
ight but it doesn't look like it (the
e). I'm surprised none of my other
tly... Tim, Steve, Gemma... er...
What a fucking popular guy I am.
et some dark, handsome bloke whilst
bed with him. If that's the case I'm
l experience is okay (I got mine from
was eleven, believe it or not) but
nything long-term... Surely, please
on today. An unwelcome black figure
I hate that dump... The moment I
tomatic doors, it brought the few
slave-employment I'd spent there
much memory; it's not like I could
ce had been entirely revamped with
staff. I think it was just...
weren't as many as there was when I
ey were still around alright: I
tards behind the lawnmower displays -
cuttling like giant black crickets,
. I don't know what they do, what
ust suck up the dust, but they
ll how big they are because they're
uldn't be surprised if - out in the
e as your average cat.
s... But there are no moths in Retail
't see me until I'd finished my
her counter, folded my arms and
her neighbour and turned to face me,
at the fuck're YOU doin here?"
it look like?" I said.
nger, as if she couldn't quite grasp
right in front of her, in the fucking
ooked at the stuff I intended to buy
es at me: "What's the fuckin rope
rubbish bags... Do you?"
, whisking my head round. "Argue with
re's the manager, do you mind if I
ed annoyed. Good.
avoiding the queue simply because
things about looking like an insane
ty of Dis is that most people tend to
k like death at the moment.
s what they call em, no shit) and
Her till bleeped.
what you're doing... But..."
that's what I'm doing."
" She looked at me, seriously. Karen
if she tries, but it's a rare and
er more convincing attempts. I gave
beneath the counter and flopped it
nned the rope through. I bagged it
sixty nine... Stu-u?"
fiver. She took it. "See ya later
- change and recipt- Stu, will you be
t me to come down and talk... Stu
doors cut me off from her beautiful,
sting, colourful, Bug-infested world
y. The moths are big big big. And
ad in his wobbly, drunken state. The
as clouding like exhaust fumes, his
... Strangely fatter than usual. And
yes, this was TV influence at it's
your brother?" - That before he'd
an answer." He collapsed beside me,
corner of his mouth.
omething in my notebook. "Three
Steve bolted upright. "You made a
n't. How did your parents react to
ce said to his son. `Very
things tonight, Steve," I said and
subject slightly, say something
id I tell you?)
ty habit, right?"
use nobody has ever offered me a
fucking dick,' I thought, but
me, just to see where it all ended
ts Love Your Brother More Than You'
'd cope... For the first time ever,
actually done some serious research
haps spoken to Richard, or even Mum.
at serious about (excuse the
, holding his fag out.
surprise, and stubbed it out on the
out of his nut to realise what I'd
s lips, found nothing there, flopped
re than she loves you," He said in a
een rehersing that line since he got
ere," He watched the moths for a
hit the nail more-or-less on the head
usion he deserved a respectful
al bombardment. By not answering, I
his suspicions either. Perhaps he'd
other idea, thinking this one had
withus?" He blurted suddenly. I
red, crawling for the southern box.
ne who `wins' the next time Steve
s yes indeed). But we'll see.
t most of the day wandering rather
g though - there's always people and
doodles... And then suddenly I'm
the observer. Being scrutinized and
sat down beside me, peering inquisi-
ed. "You paintin things?" She
and diagrams I'd been doing. "Can I
ceeded to draw a surprisingly
Suddenly she stopped and looked at me
r? How can you make pictures with no
onsider a response, a sharp female
, what've I told you about talkin
campered hastily towards the source
p slap and a muffled yelp echoed
, please - come and put the colours
keep domestic bollocks out of this
on, I won't have any choice but to
my parents WILL find this place...
this piece of work, this study of
I am. I've seen him strolling round
ute stuck-up bitch of a girlfriend.
are at the moment (ie: nothing is
l be seriously `in the shit' when he
ering into my lair.
, I'll undoubtedly KILL the
um and Dad, why don't you just come
you just bring your shitty little
ome on come on come on come on come
out. Patience is the key, I think.
when they've nothing better to do
kely ever to return.
explaining. I reckon one of my
mosaic tiles have fallen away in the
coincidence of course, but it's quite
heard one of the fragments fall out
go, but I'll be fucked if I can find
'm not too keen on hanging around
bastard would turn up.
night. That's a long way for you,
way. Much better to get a car and
get a life, get grown-up.
tes to walk - not run, jog, sprint,
e - all the way back home, from the
to fall back into my own chaotic
lot like trying to fall asleep: the
r is never remembered, never quite
lk to and from this place - it takes
utes to quite literally "leave myself
ely I really believe I'm somewhere
I dunno, I dunno what/where it is.
minutes, I'm not sure, I CAN'T be
rself occupied while walking to a
course, to simply observe your
- the people, the activities, the
ttraction of walking in the first
cks to these `normal' methods if the
regular (or both).
bad idea during the daytime, but at
your ears to function as they should
t's kick his head in nick it", etc).
imagined small goblin-type creatures
myself occupied. These ugly monsters
the aircraft. Destination Tunnel. Or
ive them weather reports, ETA's,
attractions with my imaginary
out the menu... Anything to keep the
ng round in my fucked up brain, I
sten to music, I can't enjoy the
I know it all too well. The only
... Fucking intensely... I feel to
ot and cross over to a strange,
trongest "body leave" I've ever had.
llingworth? Yes Illingworth!---
Jesus I'm back home. Stop at the
ned, scratch head, glance at watch
avel" shit could really be something
reased my physical fitness - Jesus, I
t's just the repetitiveness that's
just been on through. Isn't that nice
r to call in and see me?
d in a thin voice and sat down
nd sighed as she rummaged through
small piece of lined A4 with a few
e, just offered it. I paused before
re jealous I met somebody."
m okay," She rattled the sheet of
fucking poem, read it, go on." Her
word: I thought she was going to
t her for a while to see if it would
. But they didn't. She started biting
spin round and round
nside my head
d I let you down
less thing I said
s I watch the birds
dreams I fly
t, beyond the hills
e by your side
moment. Folded it up. Gave it back to
r I did, I wrote it." She gasped.
d I take it back. I looked at the
, I did take it back. And I smiled
er short little skirt down, giving me
OU WANT THOSE OFF]
slid my notebook back into
n to ME Mr Nice Guy Chesters," Karen
You may think you're some kind of
ll tell you now, you're fucking NOT
k it, but you're NOT. You thought
n't you? Nobody at all. And now some-
re fuckin jealous aren'tcha. Well
shaky breath. "The boy... The man I
dream come true, do you see what I'm
EVER had come true. I want to be with
u too, because you're my best friend,
ing it so fuckin hard... You're
don't you just say you're jealous,
know where we fuckin stand, just say
reamed at her and threw my book down
K HER SENSELESS. *KILL* HER *NOW*
DO IT DO IT--]
" she whispered. "Okay, I'm going,
urned and began to walk away. Her
gooseflesh. She started weeping...
into the night.
oft and stupid laugh.
ook to write this entry, I found a
days, they've always-
yesterday didn't you? Well forget
going after people. I'm sick of it.
o has to hang on tightly to the
the one, always, I'm treated like
up with it all. Well bollocks.
st night's little episode with Karen.
e northern box. Just a shadow-curve.
I put these words down. Her fingers
- she just peeped- what shall I do?
shall I do?]
hadow slid away. S'gone now, and I
catch her. Perhaps she's a ghost. A
t know... Hell, maybe it's not Dianne
ere, up in my head... But I don't
ries with real terror in them down
having now: a sort of skin-tingling,
inside with cold needles. The whole
hen I'm scared. Like seeing it under
polypropylene rope. A bundle of
ttles. A cigarette lighter. A healthy
moths. Buzzing lights that don't
te mosaic stones; icy and tiny and
a new crack in the wall beside the
an seriously, just what the fuck am I
there. Huddled up near the southern
til my footsteps began to echo.
ed. She didn't take any notice: with
harp breath, she was up, backing
t chase her - you know as well as I
ng to today's entry.
ight. I got a rejection slip today,
or story compendium being launched
mum's been getting on my tits all
ing about on my computer without
drop of writing... Or anything else
ive, I MUST. I don't know who I am,
t find out.
n't stop for a chat. He was with a
ss, as per usual.
rse of the scruffy one,"
s the same in here.
ave him alone," - Jee, some defence
original insults out - I get most of
gue by listening to Tim's mates
me of it's hilarious. Tonight I've
spermy bullethole", "cockwash",
nd "maggot man" - although, glancing
otter (a converted telephone book), I
just scrub that out. Yup, done.
hed, I received (from Tim obviously)
y More Stories Published?' but on
wering ----> (a) it didn't even
Tim Nice But Dim really wanted an
on back in here and repeated himself.
isn't it? Can't you see it? I can
bright as a cock in a mousetrap:
em. They don't care about me, or each
wave of sub/urban youth. Everything's
Making it extinct. And hope, don't
ha. Oh yeah, I still have hope. I
ured out... Whatever it is I've got
e fragile ex-schoolboys keep coming
he other day was pretty harsh. Not a
nywhere. In fact, it seems to me
sly put me off the writing business
ns hurt these days - a hell of a lot
ifax Workshop period - but stuff of
iscouraging nature, really does get
n - publishes horror/fantasy of any
l consider material of "any horrific
to the guidelines. And yet they don't
y won't have it. Won't tolerate it.
o write modern fiction without using
n equally as insulting letter. Would
y stop, five lines into it, and just
away? Why can't writers and editors
ey join up and attempt to understand
by the word `fuck'? Why do you find
ion of four letters and roughly means
bite you know! I mean... Why do you
t the entire population of this
fucking basis, too?
s `fuck' into my prose just for the
ink, you're very wrong indeed. I
g writers - about the present,
atter what their age, background or
d call `bad language' or `swearing',
lot, in fact.
ssmen talking in the street? Have
guing in the playground? There is no
afraid. It's one of those small
at simply must be accepted.
Not even if it soon becomes, as I
xible replacement for the commonly
' or `bleeding'?
. Until then, please cancel my
ing shitty little 'zine.
omebody walked through: a black man
ifferent visions, same moths,
of my thoughts, half-asleep-
e to tell you:
an with a box of tools sauntered up
w the flyover. The advert it
omantic film - was way out of date,
dozens of felt-tip and spraycan
, watching, smiling, unseen in the
h his work. He packed up his tools
f my Tunnel.
t towards him - so pathetically blank
y be normal down here in the misty
k - and found I was looking into...
acking. Empty, bottomless, looking
d back. Pushed me out, sucked me in.
lence, pain. My fist hit it,
e all over. Nausea washed over me. My
eople passed. Avoiding me.
cker, but what does it matter?
I spit- as the events of the non-
g back in a rush of blood and
-white flame of a cigarette lighter,
The moths have appeared as they
yond the thought of burning them
ning this book for all the bitter
lso consider self-combustion.
s the weather in this industrial
sly swing when self-discussed. They
shing nets... Try to scrape me back
e, divine punishment I'm not quite
rum- I HAVE thought- I HAVE thought-
ind has CRACKED-]
ywhere in this town - and listen to
ce is alive, this place is living,
creating and destroying mutant moths,
in, it's spinal cord, it's lover and
soon) will CLICK.
d wait - my unassigned tools buried
nd scribble as always, popping my
wimmers in the social seas... And
e moths dance and the shadows of
the lights buzz (like the growlnoise
run my fingers across my skin and
a man but the skin of a shark, a
another chunk of the mosaic unlodge
at lightening speed, but, as always,
race of fallen stone.
now we have a T ladies and gents. A
happen today, something that could
you can read this. I dont like
om the bedroom window! Arrived beside
nsumed by a cold, cloudy darkness,
as the woman who'd given birth to me
- rid her home of every trace of a
er said that before,
hered about me using language like
condemned it. Still, she shouldn't
my quilt, should she? Not at half
on the day God told us all to
t lad, cool it. Play back the tape,
it's something special, something
'T DO. Okay, okay, here goes.
et go now."
around. Fishcirclemouths, but no
own in an explosion of glass and
watched the shining dice bounce and
wers and weeds in its path, until it
ilent and the front door was locked.
clothes and walked away.
n your heart?
fore because you've suddenly become
leader, the piper, the freeman... A
landscape of a planet you arrived on
st awkward customers.
assionate moment between two randy
eccessary precautions. Lumbered with
king damnation by a mother obsessed
CH! FUCKING BITCH BITCH BITCH BITCH
like a product in a supermarket. I'm
school I attended, a brick in their
). I'm a human doormat for lazy,
'm judged by others via a physical
non-existant God. Trapped in a
treets of this doomed planet, with no
istening to an abnormal heart-beat.
world war - an end to the suffering
selfish species that does not
e of time and matter. But there is a
ely-obtained power, offered by true -
t of this is escape from pressure.
l. And another part is certainty -
into the Tunnel.
ed to good... Fed to evil... what?
in dreams. Link worlds. Funny how the
e a gentle, cosy bedbeater what? I
any of life's domestic requirements
m at now what?
why don't you just speak louder, I
ther I suppose I'd better go and take
them, I dunno, tink them. The walls
that mean I'm cracking too? And why
today compared to every other day
mbled bit beside my unicorn where the
old and I'm terrified because I've
less, but I'm alright.
aren't particularly comforting
e over the past few weeks I think
ria, so I'm not gonna panic. If this
y, I'm gonna let it say it. I'm not
to run! SHI T FU c
ght. If you scribble shite like that
in deep shit: this diary IS you, boy.
d in the shape of four letters. I
he blurry, messy, anger - I must have
ake sense of things - well, better
e evidence right up front, right
e! Right there!
4 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 21 22 23 24 25
e shit. Shit
one thing - all fucking day is quite
e. I've spent a hell of a lot of time
very exciting - I must have looked
mes since the start of the year, and
I'll be fucked if I'm gonna sit down
nday afternoon, soaking up abuse from
omeless! I've got a home! - and it's
're walking, DICKWEEDS.
t the fuck is happening I don't
to call. I have some change and I
rom the dole office but I'm due for
KING WEEK what am I going to do
ight, darling. I am hoping they'll
ble, supper's in the oven, there's
ve a nice family get-together
lked up and down the Tunnel twenty
five minutes. What the fuck am I
should go back and talk to Mum and
ds of friends - loads of writing
still going; the writer's group -
stopped did I? Why Stu? Because you
actually doing >> FUCK ALL << down
bway? O fucking great, as if she's
fucking great, I'm stuck here in
and put the colours in now, I would
oh please put the colours in
note in my hand.
aking this up, and I'm- I swear that
ust happened. The words - STAy - are
ng them... But I feel like laughing,
rn box - Dianne I mean. She actually
er stomach, come to think of it, she
, and it frightens me because I
't, and SHE knows I didn't, but I
he waved; she said come on over here
e you. A couple of little guys.
definitely what she said, exactly
her voice didn't echo. It was really
lling through some other... Thing,
b I couldn't feel it when I touched
own the Tunnel towards her, looking
why suddenly it was all so big and
nd then she slipped out of the box
ng "Dianne, wait! Hang on!" - only my
just like normal, so I'm not sure if
into the metal fence that boxes off
really do take a while to get
now, and for a while I couldn't hear
night or anything - anything at all -
e ever-buzzing (ever-living?) lights.
ody shouted. I turned round, stared
saw was a short, scruffy tube, which
ed chunk of the London Underground.
a goblin, sat precariously (with it's
outh) on the fence I'd just crashed
at. I couldn't make a sound, never
ke a fuckin dog turd with arms and
ar bouncing in it's mouth. "Hey,
een me before. Something wrong?"
yes that's right, you read correctly
lins I used to offer a lift to. The
oke out of my coat pocket on the
an American accent, oddly enough) how
ade, and that he wanted a FUCKING
e FUCKING kip (only my coat doesn't
that but (shit no) he didn't
like a blown-up paper bag and dressed
with silver studs, rather like the
es dressed up in - whip in one hand,
bered him alright. The only thing I
little twat's name.
ilable right now," I knew what he was
nt a lift. Well fuck you, gobb-o, I
more. Been chucked out, didn'tcha
tching bastarding cunting mother.
your mam would dump you out on the
the goblin, edging around on the
fuckin shitniggle like that stop ya
e snatched his cigar out and pointed
something. "I got urgent business to
ust a coupla human footsteps short've
where that dump is don'tcha?"
produced the ten pound note that now
pages of this diary. "Ten fuckin
ou've made every fuckin night since
cker. Think about it, Chesters." The
is standards). "Whatchoo gonna do
AT? You gotcha self a Tunnel, yeah,
e fuckin package. If you wanna keep
n to your bones, you'd better start
he little cunt's name.
f it that easy, Chesters," The cigar
s this time pointed downhill. He
`shift yourself,' "Five for me, five
at's the deal."
looked down. There was another
d in the brightly illuminated
lhouette, like the shadow of a badly
ink about it," I said reluctantly.
Magnus. "Did you hear-" But he was
me to take. "Thanks," I snatched it
ed my nose. "Come on then, climb
ed my coat pocket and lifted it
o inside pocket?" he grumbled,
lizard-like eyes. "Fuck me Chesters,
feet in my pocket, hands on the
ing himself into the deep end. "No
I took it and stamped on it. He
ugly and foul-mouthed shitbag) by
f the Tunnel. He rolled like a
d (properly, I mean, unlike the
other night when Karen turned on the
> shit no, this was REAL laughter).
eamed T'Nucy Nit.
him up like a big dog turd. I
irst, suddenly accepting - and
- long, dragging minutes of endless
aching the Beechwood Road turn-off
ed like two big, green boxing gloves
ff to the library, I plucked the
ction Men and eased them down onto
!" They both shrieked in chorus and
d by the roadside wall. "Always put
llowed, unseen. "Joo want the whole
were now featherlight but full of
inshit or something), then announced:
sters, gentlemen. Have a pleasant
about to swirl round for the journey
d, Confused Man's Journey, I was
s, now visible again, screamed up
rget we're lookin after you, fucko!
'm sick of this shit you ugly little
low-orange eyes twinkling like fire
els will take you." He hissed. With-
's that supposed to mean?" I shifted
light slid up the wall, stealing the
ain... Except there was no trace of
rk, glistening spiderwebs and rain-
ded microscopic. "Hey, are you
ht wind. I looked back down the road
tantly... Getting closer. I stood
ntil the light source exploded and I
what it was: car headlights.
ehead - those goblins were heavier
quite badly - and the car rattled
in river of rainwater. I watched it,
can only describe as `an air of
is same scene (the night, the cold,
ghtlight, I could see the colour of
w (or at least TRY to get some
er with the goblins was real or
ucked into my underpants.
better buy myself a few changes of
am I going to wash? How am I going
n change in the Tunnel: I've walked
is: these entries are going to get a
t it back to me today. A memory - my
experience - perhaps the underlying
with the idea of rape. Rape
called Nina, eight years since, and
iving next door and working in some
Nina they called her, and never
door, only I lost my ball over the
o knock, I had to had to knock.
and the door closed. Warm, funny,
nd the echo of a radio somewhere (I
furniture and alien ornaments and
She went and sat on the settee and
s and then out into the green
hich was resting contently in a patch
the wall from her garden! The whole
it, the whole of it: jagged-hole
a clean white sky, so I stayed for a
hind her back and I turned and said
rane and she said no, it's okay, and
ok it and smelt it and saw that she
eat mine (manners and all that even
- but it was hot); freezing ice,
rness as her lips turned bronze and
the fridge. If you ever want one,
her white blouse thing... Hung
unny yellow like dog's wee. She
fascinated because her (what
there and plain to shape beyond that
an I had ever been before to
button clicked open (more skin and
as a centrefocus for my eyes only she
't mind me looking. Cold sticky
hadn't hardly touched my lolly, even
ir, catching flies as Mum would say.
the street and friends yelled, Mum
d some birds flew overhead in a
hhhhh," there was a little nipple
aller, much much smaller than Mum's
really liked it, my lolly dropped on
ked and look look looked.
he lolly up and down and round the
uch, more at me, like she wanted to
yes were so blue I couldn't stare for
and pink and so big nipples did
really nice she was beautiful, I
ongue- lips- tongue- swallowed, can't
n't go home. Dog wee yellow all over
llow bib like Richie's old one that
you doing...', `Can I touch...',
and rang and echoed but never never
Stuart... Come on."
inside sweet-smelling tatty house,
"Shhhhhhh," buttons undone
chest, clung to pinkish red nipples,
seen anythin like this you have never
stn't tell anybody, okay?"
couldn't speak so nodded yes yes yes
ul but paul won't tell anybody else
have to shake. It's okay."
right you never said this happened
u had to be older I-
u my fanny as well. Honest. Go on
level. I reached out and up and- and-
, not like skin I had wanted to feel
my fingers across not soft but hard
hen Nina made a noise so I snatched
licked bronze lips. Bead of wee still
breathing... And her chest was
rm breath soft lips against mine,
nd she too was shaking- sweating-
oke free of home friends mum brother
my as she licked and pulled up
y thing in her mouth and then things
d carried me to different places and
s to herself as I watched through
by stiff branch that was my own
ick like these days now in Adult
with us both on it bottom top bottom
a few days, and forever after when I
memory. There are great problems. And
agree, is the fact that I'm quite
ast... Perhaps from a dream, perhaps
re. But it did NOT happen, not in
e. Perhaps I made up the part where I
ucked up thoughts - and recorded a
, as if to say to myself, my REAL
't take another eight fucking years
g I spend in this place now that the
art... I'm engraving marks in the
e my friend STAy over there.
10 on some boxer shorts, some sand-
full of fruit from one of the stalls
stretch the dosh because I'm sure
ll be back tonight, outside the
l, I'll be very happy to oblige.
as I took a slow bite from the Boots'
nise one of the voices... (could it
For a moment I was filled with so
ful Karensound that I let a gooey
mouth and splat on the floor like
couldn't! needles & pins and I ached
: she was with somebody ELSE this
your friends TONIGHT?)
Echofootsteps. And then in they came
of them, masking their lower faces
like she was talking to me over a
ry. "What the fuck's going on?"
companion (whatsisname? what?), a
r of a bloke.
ht desperately, almost bleeding with
red hot and lightning fast - shoot
ventured into my lair like marines
o make a sound but all I got was a
ng was stuck there - an elastic band,
(Karen help me please)]
or me like a pirate for treasure and
ave her some time. "WHAT HAPPENED!"
n't like that one but I couldn't see
smell her hair her touch her being...
nd nose and mouth to stop running but
w words like "how are you?" and "mum
tle basic hints of communication
new, attractive, Poor Stuart way. It
uce Mr Hunky.
t you, I'm Bruce," He offered me his
nd squeezed it tightly to show I
t. The guy was big and the guy was
(you don't fuck with people who talk
herfucker, or who see the Retail Bugs
th. "Go, please..." I waved them
ach other not an appalling mess like
dickfannies don'tcha see how shallow
tugged my sleeve. "I want you to
here... We'll find somewhere for
se we will) "We'll gotoa-a-a-"
nto my jumper. That was when Bruce
buzz of the Machine's stomachlights
rock statue from a mythical film (I
he Argonaughts") and about as
dition as a cup of cold coffee on a
tly. "It's quite obvious to me that
ive this guy a medalion) "Are you
l over this subway?" (it's not a
- The Drug Tunnel) "Can't you smell
ed round, wrinkling his nose up.
mess, how do you think it's going to
his chin again, that lovely spiky
between Karen's cuntlips yet has it
aren's is a friend of mine. I can
t offer a place to kip because I
aying with Karen at the moment," (I
gainst me) "But I can give you
ts when I smile, now: my lips are
. Not much, but a little. I'll
out of my coat and took a few
knew I was lying, but I just winked.
hey mean, what they symbolise? Or do
s socialgolem's cock inside you all
ore. The place stunk. The lights
l drunks staggered past, squinting
ch beeped midnight.
Bruce whispered. "It's morning now.
y tugged her jacket.
directly under my message "ENDLESS
e breathed and stopped massaging his
u mean you can tell?"
t hurt so much to just leave it as
ion: "Isn't she?" I added (please
shrugged. "Maybe she was for a while,
it's over now. Perhaps a fantasy, me
He smiled to himself. "She said I
ut coarsely, viciously.
into my hostile eyes, before nodding
" I wasn't whispering anymore - in
her, will you?"
t of me wanted to cry part of me
spurt the blood across the walls of
ip the smug hedgehog chin out of the
oung beast (that had stolen my yes
anted to curl up and go to sleep and
re was over but the real real real
truth from a single surviving
and corrupted heart told me it was
eation my own lack of self-
lief self-power self self self self
now crouched beside me. "I'll tell
'll tell her how I feel, okay?
know she will. I mean- shit, just
He rubbed his eyes. "You're right,
ubt I ever will be. I like her, a
rson, a great friend, and christ we
. But what you said a few moments
s sex is all I wanted." He looked
ct at last and I wondered: are you
oked down at the sleeping girl.
led away, and I was left with a patch
knew would fade so quickly I would
er up in his arms.
dnight, we're going home."
tomorrow, I promise," She called over
d as cherries. "Take care, don't go
se, I proh-hom-iss..."
stopped thinking fucked up thoughts)
hat the little guys were back, so I
hes to prepare myself for the long
his perch on the fence. "You gotta
They don't keep on being the young-
tate! They grow up! And there's
quit moping around and wipe that
ve got places to go, am I right?
es," I nodded. "Right."
ard and we were off - no delays. The
gers didn't complain as much as they
say as I enjoyed myself.
I'd made up that bizzare sexual
ssibly have become so vivid and
uld slot into place around the non-
EAL, make it feel as though it DID
time, there was a voice whispering
p at home when you overheard your
when you saw Nina naked one day!
ybe you should try and remember the
ou following all this? or are you
emories tonight, but I did come back
en pounds in my pocket, and now...
rown the old ones in the bushes -
chips & sauce) and I'm now going to
te to watch the moths (or are they
ntil I fall asleep.
I'm going to "solve a jigsaw puzzle"
n't under the Tunnel, I was outside,
usually lingers. I had been blown, I
ead leaves. According to my watch it
old and stiff and starving, so I
boring slideshow. I spent most of it
ut Richard (if he was upset, if he
returned or letting Mum tear it up
was looking for me, if HE'D been
I mean WHAT? WHAT? WHAT? Does
l help me. And let's face it, I do
o confidence anymore, no faith, no
.. Well, no nothing...
s diary - I'm obviously going insane,
hat happens to me- what I see through
hell should I make it up? I spend
y bother making a fictional diary
Will I look back and remember it that
h reality from fantasy?
t know what's real, what's unreal,
I guess. And one wine bottle used up.
Oh I'll tell you what happened shall
and reached into my pocket like I
e or a gun or something but instead I
ty empty wine bottle, which crack-
unnel leaving me with a circular-
oys slowed walking - stopped walking
urned, slowly, grinning.
tlemen." I smiled, holding up the
glass rolled out of it, hit the
see the whole of the crane, not just
nting at me, drunk as usual but
est - me, his friend, his contact,
e Twilight Zone, gone mad, turned
nation, I think - and I advanced as
, some still giving me abuse, but in
't hurt us master, we're sorry-]
n they realised the smell and the
the walls and the new grafitti done
that might be my own and might not
ere, come to Daddy...
med, his voice fresh and new and low
m beneath the Tim. The darkest depths
e and kicked me and driven me to
as back. "What the fuck are you gonna
the head with that, eh? You're fucked
t electricity. My fingers were
my skin was running with sweat.
hrough clenched teeth.
s just go-"
n box. Three more. Tim in the lead,
After all, I was his friend.
chuckled, arms held out. "You're
that, are ya Stu, eh? You're just a
ho had screamed and that I was the
vil night with the teenage girls -
ung men, terrified of insanity,
ttle held high and ready to strike.
ended but I do remember slicing open
to his back and slashing him across the
I thought I would trip. I remember
, blinding me, filling my mouth,
Tunnel and collapsing not with the
tinkle of glass and the crack-whip
emember... Except her warmth. I do
o die, soon, I can sense it. They
e. I am satisfied that tonight I chased
away, away, away from here and I am
nd spread his guts all over this
se who hurt you in the past or you
isk the breakup. I took the risk
ndship, two-sided friendship - would
nds who deep down d n't give a fuck
fiddle all over the kitchen floor
h fun and the Bug did a million more,
mmer yellow-white like puddles and
kin. I am in a cardboard tube, a
and out but I'm not allowed to leave.
here like rivers of melted butter
. With Karen.
mum said you could have the spare
e not staying here, I won't let-"
e it from here, I can see it, I love
stard for hurting you, I can see it,
after that, crying I think, though
hs flutter, like little heating fans,
around my face.
in the road that the things we
. Wine bottles, rope, black bags,
ickwork and made-up-fantasies. They
uzzle to solve - crack that and
iting for anything to happen and
ation what I wait f r doesn't exist
my head) up here, do you get it
ginning to make sense.
riddle that is Steve today when he
ellow butter) and stopped and
tead he turned to pity and offered
h I took, before I hooked the rope
him across the ground, nearer and
sion-swap, nearer and nearer to the
the beast, and I swung him ---> I
qu aling and crying and bleating like
out into the monster's buttercoated
egs then his body to the waist, then
out of my world, out of my nest, out
mad as I flicked the lighter up and
d for his voice to leave like the
won't ever be back.
im, though he didn't hear, and I can,
m in here.
e back to see if I was still alive
ht a police man with him through the
to be a big binliner he was holding
e it, something caught, something
l it, yes."
s mates, he looked different, not a
one of his eyes was a different
I asked him.
first," he replied, smiling.
im and he waved before disappearing
ely after the dimension flash, the
d swish and rattle - big it was,
- and staggered up and took hold of
ct, the plastic clash of legs, the
smell of Retail Bug shit - black
the shape of bullets, I sensed - as
t to throb and thrash and kick and
rp and c ld. Tore through my jeans,
p on the bag and skidded down onto
and yelped and eventually leaped free
er, it spr ng for the southern box,
and a dimension flash.
of the Tunnel and chasing the
don't remember getting to here, laid
where in the dark. Magnus said some-
shed to pieces with glass in the back
wandering aimlessly by a man
and Magnus climbed out of my pocket.
summersault, sat up and made his eyes
he said, grinning. "End of the road,
I wanted to be back at the Tunnel in
hs and think some more about the past
e use of the things the STAy message
dn't, somehow, you know, I couldn't,
warning, the final frontier, the
grandfather felt like before death,
the blurring his vision was and how
ry for all sins he must have been.
s, with the dreams," smiled Magnus,
ost; I could see the bricks in the
and face the music, fucko. Stand in
t there, out in the middle of the
te moths, silent and freezing and
d snowing as Magnus disappeared and I
, ready to STAy now and tackle the
e, up-down, up-down, and to scream
the end, right to the fucking END,
the END, I scribb e to the END, the
ry, mainly of Karen. Remember being
d wn into mine.
rinking s mething, being told
of talking, not m h from me - j st
Mum a d Richard. Mum cryin�. Mum
ide. I rem er touching my face and
the b shes where I kept t e items I
hey found glu of all things in plas
of my eyes. Se med excited. Quite a
think I h ve met before. Papers
l ve you ."
it m t be good ne s, unless of
making it up... Or whate er. I
pen ' s r n ou