The Rabbit Ears
SYNOPSIS: Looks over a day in the life of two friends and the separate lives they live, and how everything could have turned out differently if but not for one single event.
This piece contains very explicit coarse language, sexual references and some disturbing themes.
I opened my eyes, the sun bathing my room in a vast ocean of light. Music posters lined the walls and used clothes were scattered randomly across the floor. I jerked the sheets from under me, my body crying out for rest. A sudden sexualised feeling came over me as I pulled down my pants. Grabbing hold of my growing penis I quickly began to masturbate, the feeling being extraordinarily intense as I groaned in pleasure.
To aid in the erection I thought of Ophelia, her body being both luscious and fantastical. Her permed blonde hair billowed across her face, her brilliant turquoise eyes staring back at me; her wet lips looking as moist as ever. Her tight jeans reflected her magnificent legs and fantastically formed arse; her short top revealing the snake tattoo imbedded permanently around her belly button.
I breathed a sigh of relief, semen rushing out from the tip of my penis, successfully accomplishing my erotic morning entertainment. Taking a deep breath, I pulled myself out of bed, dressing myself in appropriate casual wear for my university classes. Hurrying down the stairs to the kitchen, I gulped down my breakfast, bidding farewell my parents before briskly walking down to the train station.
Upon arriving, I wiped the sweat from my face as I stood with the other commuters, impatiently awaiting the train which was already three minutes late. My mind spontaneously turned to Camellia and as I thought of her I believed I saw her on the other side of the tracks as the train finally arrived. I clearly remembered what she had told me on her deathbed at the hospital that fateful night; two tubes connected to her nose, her bloodied appearance being far too overwhelming to believe. ‘I don’t care what it is you believe’ Camellia had said. ‘Just believe in her’ she managed, gesturing at Ophelia, before collapsing back into the bed.
It was these words that prevented me from being with Ophelia. She was beautiful, yes, but her beauty was simply to be admired, not taken advantage of. Besides, she didn’t see anything in me.
Escaping my delusional fantasy I boarded the train, the doors closing behind me.
I sat at the back of the psychology class; the lecturer arriving as I eagerly awaited for Ophelia. Upon arrival she looked exactly as I had imagined her in my wet dream as she sat beside me. Under the light, the piercings in her face were clearly visible, shining beautifully under the fluorescence.
‘Did I miss much?’ asked Ophelia, sounding a little out of breath.
‘No, it’s all bullshit anyway’, I grunted with a smirk which Ophelia returned.
‘Donald’s getting worse’ she finally said, looking a little afraid. ‘He hates me, I know it.’
‘Your father doesn’t hate you’ I shot back reassuringly. ‘Camellia’s death has been difficult for both of you. He is trying to cope with it, just as you are. All of these tattoos and piercings are your way of attempting to find yourself after such an ordeal.’
Ophelia sniffed as she took out her purse, opening it up to reveal an image of her and Camellia, the two of them looking exactly alike. With the exception that Camellia had a pink fluffy pair of rabbit ears atop her head. The image beside this was from their childhood. A skinny man sat in the centre, his broad smile being the most prominent feature. Seated on his lap were both his children, Ophelia wearing the rabbit ears in this photo.
‘It’s amazing how much things can change’ said Ophelia sadly as the lecturer interrupted our thoughts.
‘Happiness is one of the most powerful emotions of all. Go ahead, see how it feels by complimenting the person sitting beside you’ he said, as I rolled my eyes.
Ophelia turned to face me, looking deadly serious. ‘You’re a nice person’ I said awkwardly as Ophelia sniggered. I awaited my compliment, but before she had given it the lecturer began talking again, Ophelia becoming quite distant after that.
Sitting atop my bed in the late afternoon sun, my mind turned to Ophelia, believing she may have needed a little tenderness. Picking up the phone from my desk, I dialed the digits for her home phone, her mobile having being confiscated by her father after the tragic incident which claimed the life of his daughter. The phone rang continuously as I thought of hanging up, just as Donald’s pre-recorded voice came over the receiver.
‘Those fucking rabbit ears!’ he roared. ‘I can’t fucking stand them! They’re everywhere! I can’t remove them from my mind! Oh, but I will by fucken destroying the little fuckers!’ he cried out deviously, the line instantly going dead. Frozen in fear, I leapt from the bed and hurried out the door, racing towards Ophelia’s, fearing for her life as I traversed the darkening streets, sad and alone.
Upon arrival I sensed something was amiss. The entire house was pitch black, not a single trace of life originating from its eerie interior. I shuddered to myself as I navigated the disturbingly unkempt lawn, knocking on the wooden door which instantly swung open. I slowly walked on through, making my way into the lounge room tripping over something on the floor. As this occurred I threw out my hands to stop myself from falling, the carpet feeling drenched. I reached for the light and flicked it on, reeling at what I saw.
Donald lay on the floor, a revolver in his left hand. His entire body was covered in blood, the walls and floors the same. His head no longer looked like it once had, appearing to have being blown off by the gun blast as I found myself hyperventilating. What had Donald done? I ran for Ophelia’s room, which was completely vacant, hurrying back before pausing at the entrance of the bathroom, noticing some form of liquid on the floor. Turning on the light I felt my entire body sag, finding the floor covered in blood, hurrying for the bath where a body was located. I heard a whimpering from inside me as I threw my hands around Ophelia, her body having bled out from having each of her piercings and tattoos removed with a number of sharp instruments covering the floor. What had her father done I wondered, the word ‘no!’ escaping my lips, as I sobbed into her hair, feeling immense guilt for never revealing to her how I felt.
I awoke to Donald screaming. I quickly dressed and applied make-up, not wishing to further aggravate him as he appeared at my door.
‘What? Still not dressed you lazy cunt?’ he cried, holding a bottle of liqueur in his hands which he quickly finished, throwing it in my direction.
I ducked, the bottle shattering as it connected with the wall, pieces of glass flying across the room as Donald continued down the hall howling insanities. I noticed the rose tattoo on my leg and the piercings in my belly as I pulled up my jeans, grabbed my bag and hurried down the hall. I stopped outside my sister’s room where a pair of rabbit ears was placed atop a pedestal, an image of both of us smiling under it; one of our better moments. Avoiding my father, I raced out the door and hurried towards the bus that would take me to university.
I briskly walked into class and made my way over to Jared. Like always, he looked incredibly handsome as I sat beside him and began to quietly make conversation, beginning to feel life returning to my body once more. Upon mentioning the intense loathing my supposed father had for me, Jared burst into his usual sensitive drivel about how the both of us were attempting to find ourselves. I guess he didn’t realise that I had; I was exactly who I was meant to be.
Of all the people in the world I wished he would be the one to notice that as the lecturer before us broke through my thoughts, instructing us to complement one another.
I smiled, turning to Jared who looked a little taken aback as he turned to face me, his beautiful brown eyes looking directly into mine.
‘You’re a nice person’ he finally said, the words cutting through me like knives as I sniggered, attempting to hide the pain.
What I would have given to hear him tell me I was beautiful. To hear him say that he loved me, so much so in fact that he wished to take me outside and physically express it through non-stop frenetic, sexualised orgasmic activity. But no, he had completely rejected me as I became more and more distant from him with every second.
I lay on my bed that afternoon sobbing into my pillow, my black mascara running across my face. God I must have looked so pathetic, crying over some boy who I had had feelings for since the moment we had met. Donald’s sudden screaming brought me out of my stupor as I slowly made my way down the hall, finding him in the lounge room with the phone in one hand and a revolver in the other.
‘What the fuck are you looking at?’ he cried, brandishing the weapon at me as I backed away fearfully. ‘I have had it with the fucking rabbit ears and now, I remove them from my consciousness!’ Putting the gun to his head, he pulled the trigger. The effect was instantaneous. His head was completely mangled on impact, flakes of bloody facial tissue flying across the room, covering the walls as his body fell to the ground.
‘Well, it was bound to happen eventually’ I told myself, feeling a mixture of fear and contempt. Making my way to the bathroom I began to cry, tears streaming down my face, my entire body shaking. I thought of calling the police, but I knew deep down I was partly responsible for what had happened. Switching on the bathroom light I looked at my face in the mirror, before puking in the toilet bowel, wiping my face on a paper towel and staring back at my reflection. Neither Jared nor my father believed I was beautiful and if my sister were alive she too would have felt the same way. I looked at my reflection and saw a freak.
Loathed, rejected. I needed to be beautiful again.
I opened up the bathroom cabinet and pulled out a pair of tweezers, placing them on either side of my nose ring before ripping it out, blood flying across the mirror. The pain was excruciating, but I had to continue. I would not stop until I was beautiful once more, reaching my hand back into the cabinet and taking out a scalpel.
Lying in the bath, blood flowing around me, I lost consciousness, feeling contempt that I had achieved true beauty. I heard a door open, before hearing a cry of pain; noticing the shape of a person running to my side and embracing me. And as death took me, my last thoughts were of my sister.
She sat in the driver’s seat, the rain battering the windows on the dark, stormy night, the lights of passing motorists flying by.
‘Might I be able to borrow the rabbit ears?’ I asked from the passenger seat. She snorted.
‘No. They were mothers’. She would have wanted me to have them, especially since you killed her from being born last.’
I knew my sister was still affected by the booze we had over indulged on at the party, but I did not deserve such harsh treatment. ‘How can you say that to me?’ I cried.
‘Oh, fuck you!’ retorted Camellia as I felt an intense rage within me.
‘You know what Camellia, why don’t you just fucking die!’ I shouted as the truck came out of the shadows and plowed into us.