Free Flick by Abigail Tarttelin

know that, and finally, finally I’m in there, and she sucks my dick and then I turn her around and I’ve got her arse, so fucking hot, and I push my dick in her from behind, not in her arse, like, y’know, like, her cunt, right?”
    â€œMmm.”
    â€œAnd I’m fucking away at her and her big tits are jiggling, man, and it’s wicked and, FUCK, man, the door opens and Poz puts his head round the corner and goes, ‘Dildo, you’ve gotta get your sister, she’s well out of it and I can’t have her here like that,’ and you know, I fucking understand his point ’cause it’s his house, right, but if he’s got a thirteen-year-old there, and she’s clearly fucked, then it’s, well, that’s trouble, right?”
    â€œYeah.”
    â€œSo I zip up, apologize to Katy, I go out the room, and there’s fucking Bex . . .”
    Rainbow.
    â€œMascara and that shit all down her face.”
    Her beautiful face.
    â€œCoke-ringed fucking nose.”
    Her beautiful little nose.
    â€œTits falling out . . .”
    Her beautiful chest cuddled to mine.
    â€œ. . . skirt ridden up above her pussy . . .”
    Her beautiful pussy in my face.
    â€œ. . . Danny looking a fucking smug twat . . .”
    Me and Rainbow, Rainbow and me.
    â€œ. . . stroking her . . .”
    Pushing myself into her.
    â€œ. . . KISSING HER NECK . . .”
    Diving in her, losing myself, opening up, letting go.
    â€œFUCKING BASTARD TWAT.”
    Swimming in Rainbow, helpless, resigned, content, forever.
    We sit in silence for a while, each mulling over his thoughts. Dildo’s words filter through my dreams of Rainbow and reach my conscious mind. “Dildo? What was the point of that story?”
    Dildo shrugs. “I dunno. Just every weekend seems to be the same, doesn’t it?”
    I’m looking at him. Poor Dildo, his mop of hair unevenly cut about his ears, stubble sprouting randomly on his face, nicotine under his fingernails, all on a giant’s frame. Yeah, Dildo is a gentle giant. His other sister is famous in our area. She was a druggie and died from an overdose when she was seventeen and Dildo was nine. It was in all the papers, and as usual Fez and Troy were questioned, even though they were only fourteen at the time. We still don’t know that they weren’t involved, so Dildo’s never been on good terms with either of them. It was sad but as Troy said to me once while muntered, at least she went out with a bang. The only other way to go here is slowly, when you’re old and thin and alone and shafted from working in steel and coughing up blood that you can’t seem to get a lawsuit through the courts for. And she made it onto Look North . Dying’s the only thing that gets you noticed around here. Which is depressing and probably not a helpful thought for her family or the little brother she left behind, all wide blue eyes and black hair and now scratched up from various burn marks and from mucking about on the street on his bike with no one watching him. His parents gave up after she died. Pretty much forgot they had three other kids: Dildo, Bex, plus one other little brother (younger I mean, he’s not a midget or anything).
    Dildo’s looking out across the field to the sky above the art block. Up in the deep summer blue a massive bird soars higher and higher on a thermal, dips forward and tumbles down, then arcs round again, soars back upwards with its wings spread wide, through a wisp of cloud, then beyond and away, until we can only see a tiny dot over the sea. I think about what he’s said, how everything seems to be the same, always, and I nod slowly. And then, because I don’t know what I could say or do that would make anything change for Dildo, or for any of us, I suck another lungful of the sweetly acrid smoke, then let it drift out through my lips,