#ill take any black haired michael smiling crumbs i can

[darlinhutchence]

Michael Hutchence circa 1995, cooking with Ray Cokes (x).

[douglashonorscollege]

A Family Outing

short story by Anonymous  ⌂

“WHOEVER STOLE MY WHEELBARROW F*** YOU B**** COME SEE ME.”

Duke stared at the words in front of the orange home in the Box. This was much different than the “Bless This Home” sign in front of his own house. His house--located in the suburbs, many miles away from the Box--was tall and well-groomed. The carpet in the house was soft under his paws, the bright yellow walls were smooth when he brushed his small furry blonde body against them, and food crumbs were plentiful.

Everything about humans fascinated Duke. He watched every movie with his family (even the scary ones), tried every food he was given, and even sang along when Madeline practiced the violin. When the day of the Box trip arrived, he sat in the family’s van and watched them exit the church. All Duke knew about church was that nobody wanted to go and Mom yelled at anyone who dared to wear jeans. Despite their complaints, Duke envied the time they spent in that small mysterious building.

Duke had been anticipating the visit to the Box for months. He was there when Mom had ordered the tickets online and had been attentively eavesdropping on the family’s Box discussions ever since. At dinner, Dad had remarked, “I can’t wait to see one of those Box-freaks in real life.” Dad acted really tough with his yelling and cursing and giving Duke the nickname “Schmuck”. When no one was looking, he cried during movies, sang to love songs on the radio, and cuddled with Duke after work.

Duke intently watched as Madeline, the oldest sibling, wrote a research paper about the Box:

The Box was built in 2067 in a small town formerly known as Finley, WA. After 6,000 different Hanford Nuclear Power Plant employees developed physical and mental mutations from a radioactive material leak, the government decided to intervene. Side effects ranged from psychotic behavior, tentacle growth from the brain, and green tinting to the skin. After the incident, the power plant was shut down; thousands of families were left without any source of income, ill, and angry.

First, they torched the mall, then the bank, then the churches. When they started murdering masses and rearranging the railroads, it became clear that no ordinary jail cell could contain the continually mutating victims. That’s when the Box was built. The Box is a sturdy, well-filtered facility that is 14.5 cubic miles large. All 6,000 employees were forcibly transferred to live in the Box permanently. Upon entering the Box, citizens were encouraged to build houses and begin farming with the artificial resources provided.

Duke recalled the times he had learned about the Box from the magic screen in the living room. When a Box resident attempted to scale the 14.5 mile wall in an effort to escape, he suffocated from lack of oxygen and died. In efforts to boost morale, the government transformed the Box into a freak show/amusement park for the citizens outside the Box. Within weeks, The Box became the most popular tourist attraction in eastern Washington. Duke was confused why such a sad place would bring people excitement, but he just assumed that it was yet another aspect of being human that he would never understand.

The day they went to the Box was a warm Sunday afternoon in October, so Dad decided a trip to the winery would be a good way to kill time before their appointment at the Box. Duke loved wineries. The long stretches of grass to chase his sisters on, the sunshine to bathe in, and the occasional hidden dead bird or rat to munch on. He loved how happy his family looked. Mom and Dad, sipping red wine and playing cards, and his sisters slicing apples with a small kitchen knife from Mom’s purse. Mom was incredibly thoughtful, she was prepared for anything.

Duke’s family approached the gates to the Box in their minivan and parked next to the ticket booth. A teenager wearing an “I SURVIVED THE BOX” T-shirt opened the ticket window. The shiny pimples on his face reminded Duke of the Skittles commercials his sisters thought were so funny.

“Tickets for seven please,” said Dad.

“Is your group interested in purchasing any souvenirs, sir?” the boy grunted.

“Nah, not today.” Eyeroll. Sigh.

“Welcome to the Box. At the Box, we have three rules: no leaving the vehicle, no weapons permitted, and no removing any items from the Box. Pictures are encouraged. If you post a photo, please use #getboxed to get 15% off your next visit. Since you’ve already signed the waiver you’re good to go.”

The family chanted “The Box! The Box! The Box!” as they traded their van for a rented military-grade Hummer. Duke sat in the passenger's seat on Mom’s lap. Mom is a charming woman whose big eyes, big nose, big mouth, big teeth, and big blonde Jennifer Anniston highlights, looked even bigger on her petite body. She wore large beaded earrings, pink lipstick, high heels, and a dress with lots of lines and shapes on it.

As Dad drove the Hummer through the gates and towards the steak fields, Duke recalled the time when mom had snuck him steak, fish, and even cabbage before dinner. She never forgot about Duke. He thought of their morning snuggles, the good books he read over her shoulder, and the time she defended his honor when he chewed up the cord to the vacuum cleaner. His favorite part of the day was sitting by her side and watching her paint. He often followed his family as their feet shuffled throughout the house. Mom’s were his favorite to follow.

There were times when Duke was convinced that despite her adoration for her biological children, he was indeed Mom’s favorite. He was a good boy. Mom made Duke feel as if--despite his small furry body--that he was human. It was Mom who insisted he join the family on long hikes and trips to the beach and demanded his appearance in every Christmas card. It was Mom who chose to bring him on the family’s big trip to see the Box.

Dad was not as enthusiastic to bring Duke. He found it outrageous that he had to buy an adult-priced ticket for a 10-pound chihuahua.

The further they drove into the Box, their amazement grew. Despite it being 2 pm, the sky was pitch black, and torches illuminated the houses built from garbage. Between the houses were fields of colorful produce, and green octopus-looking children eyeing the family closely, licking their lips. The fields felt endless. The air smelled different near the plants, a sweet, sour stench that made Duke feel dizzy.

Madeline shouted, “Mom look! That orange house is made of trash, just like we learned about in the documentary. The garbage man dumps our trash here so that the monsters can make houses.”

Duke watched as Mom’s bright green eyes faded to a watery grey, as they usually do after a few drinks. Her eyes were glued to a garden next to the orange house. Duke scratched her arm to ask for more snuggles, but she did not respond. The garden was filled with bright blue glowing pumpkins. She was entranced. So entranced that she didn’t even notice the threatening sign next to the house.

“Michael stop the car.”

Dad stopped the car; he is more obedient than Duke sometimes. Mom pulled a small kitchen knife from her purse, handed the knife to her two oldest children, and told them to go to the garden and grab a pumpkin for her.

They hesitated at first, confused why they were being encouraged to steal but soon jumped out of the car like it was the grandest adventure of their lives. They too, upon seeing the pumpkins for themselves, fell in love.

They had never looked at Duke the way they looked at those pumpkins. Was he not good enough? What did those pumpkins have that he didn’t? The pumpkins never chewed up their toys. That must be it.

Duke watched through the window. He observed their big cheesy smiles as the two girls tried to cut the pumpkin from the stem, and their terrified faces when the door to the orange house opened, a 300-pound green-skinned witch with scales instead of skin emerged. Her long hair was made of octopus tentacles that rattled as she walked. She wore a long nightgown made of bedsheets. After taking a long puff from her cigar, she asked them to leave.

Duke was ready to attack. He could sense that his sisters were in danger.

Dad opened the door to apologize, but before he could muster the words Mom had summoned her children to the car, put the pumpkin in her purse, and had called Box patrol.

The Box patrol rolled up in another military-grade Hummer with #GetBoxed logos on every door. Two tall brawny women armed with assault rifles exited the vehicle and inspected the scene. Duke noted the way they looked at the woman from the orange house. They grimaced at her scaly feet and overgrown nails. The stench seeping from her tentacles made them gag. The woman took a long puff from her cigar.

“These kids stole one of my pumpkins. The rules say no stealing. I’ve been growing these pumpkins for years. They are the only part of this Box that brings me joy.”

Mom remained calm, and looked the patrol woman in the eyes, “There seems to be a misunderstanding. My dog leaped from the car window and my daughters went to go grab him before he did any damage to this beautiful garden. Then this witch chased my children around the yard and threatened them with violence. I was so scared.” She paused and turned to the woman, “You have a lovely home by the way.”

Duke was in shock. That is not what happened. He was a good boy and stayed in the car.

How could the woman he loved so dearly lie so easily?

The woman became enraged by Mom’s lies and pleaded her innocence. The patrol women ignored her; they had already made up their minds.

“CHECK HER PURSE!” the witch yelled. The veins in her neck glowed through her skin.

The first gunshot fired. Duke whimpered. His sisters unbuckled their seatbelts. Mom locked the doors. Dad didn’t move, his eyes glued to the ground.

“SHE HAS MY PUMPKIN.”

The second shot fired. Duke began to bark. When his sisters cried, they were told to close their eyes. Mom was yelling now, demanding them to shut their eyes. Duke looked at mom, eyes wide open.

“PLEASE, LET ME LIVE!”

The third shot fired. Duke darted through the window to the Box Patrol and started biting their legs. He tore their pants but realized it was too late.

The woman’s body lay in front of her home. The little orange house made of garbage that she built herself. Her blood was a deep blue and bubbled as it pooled around her body. Duke walked to her corpse and stared at her. He licked her fingertips but she didn’t move.

Momo, age six, was crying and tugged at Mom’s shoulder, “Can we say sorry now? We’re really sorry we stole her pumpkins. I want to go home. Is she hurt? We should wake her up now.”

Duke’s other sisters remained silent, they knew better than to comment. They stared at the floor, nauseous with guilt.

The muscular Box Patrol women stood over her corpse, took a photo, and asked Mom and Dad if they would like a free copy of it emailed to them. Dad said no, Mom said yes, which means yes, the picture would be sent to her email address.

As one of the patrol officers bagged the body, another apologized to Mom, “We are sincerely embarrassed for your family’s traumatic experience today and would like to offer a gift to make up for it. We will be sending #GetBoxed T-shirts as well as #IsurvivedtheBoxFreak merchandise to your home as well as a 50% discount on your next visit.”

The blue glowing pumpkin now lives in the family’s beautiful home in Kennewick. It sat first in a glass box next to the easel where Mom paints, in place of where Duke used to sit. The glass seemed to be shrinking. Last week, the glass broke. Every day, Duke patiently waits for his morning snuggles, lunchtime walks, and evening painting, but Mom no longer shows any interest. She prefers to stare at the pumpkin. Her eyes have faded since staring at it, obsessing over it, and refusing to throw it away, even after it starts to decay. She has stopped sneaking Duke treats and inviting him on trips. When Duke chewed up a shoe out of boredom, she called him a monster.

His sisters stay in their rooms with the doors shut, not cracked, so he can’t push them open with his nose. At dinner, there is silence. The pumpkin at first sat on the piano during dinner but is now massive enough to be a table.

Duke often finds himself staring at the yellow walls, which have now begun to fade to green. The walls are no longer smooth, but prickly when he rubs against them. They’re covered in numerous paintings of the blue pumpkin. Duke stares in awe, confusion, and betrayal. The walls have become so shiny that Duke sees himself in the mirror for the first time. He doesn’t look human at all. He looks like a blue pumpkin. ∎

Minerva’s Owl Homepage

[wotcherpotter]

JILY CHALLENGE APRIL | @wotcherpotter vs. @mollyraesly

TITLE: Bae-watch

PROMPT: “You’re the new lifeguard at the pool I go to, I’m going to impress you with a front-flip swan dive while you’re on duty and whoops it was so bad you tried to rescue me - this is embarrassing” AU

Find me on:      archive of our own | fanfiction.net

A/N: Hiyaaaa, this is my first time writing anything jily after reading it for several years. Title is corny as hell, and most of this one shot is but I happen to think corny is one of the best genres.

Lily joined her family at the table for breakfast on the first Sunday of her summer break. She had always been the last to rise, a trait that had only become more prominent the older she grew. The sun shone through the window and danced on the fiery red of her hair, warming her shoulders. Two slices of toast were placed on the table in front of her mother, and Lily eagerly thanked her whilst she spread several layers of jam on each. Her sister, Petunia, looked at her across the table with disdain. Lily poked her tongue in retaliation. She caught her eye with her father over the top of the paper, and could just make out the hint of a smile from the crinkles by his eyes.

Lily picked up the entertainment section of the paper that her father had left for her on the table. She was flicking through the pages aimlessly, when a small advert in the corner of one of the pages caught her eye. Queen were scheduled to perform at a venue closeby towards the end of the summer. Lily nearly fell out of her seat in excitement. She ran to the kitchen where the phone was on the hook, and dialled the number of her best friend. Lily tapped her foot impatiently, and curled the cord around her finger whilst she waited. After a few rings, someone at the other end finally picked up.

“McKinnon residence, this is Michael,” a deep voice answered.

“Hi Mike, it’s Lily. Is Marlene awake yet? Actually, I doubt she is but this is extremely important, can you go get her, pleeeeeeease?” Lily tried her sweetest, most persuasive voice.

She needn’t have bothered, as Mike would take any opportunity to annoy his older sister. He didn’t say a word to Lily, but she could here the yelling as he jumped on her in bed. There was a kerfuffle when someone picked up the receiver, and then Marlene’s voice was finally at the other end of the line.

“This better be good.”

“My dearest friend, I would never wish such ill fortune on you if it wasn’t of paramount importance,” Lily teased.

“Oh, spit it out. I’m hungry now that I’ve risen from my beauty sleep, and I can smell bacon in the kitchen.”

“Queen is coming to Cokeworth!” Lily squealed.

“Are you pulling my leg?” Marlene said grumpily.

“I wouldn’t dream of it when it comes to Queen, Marls. What do you take me for? Some kind of ignoramus?” Lily giggled down the end of the receiver.

“You are far too chirpy for this ungodly hour.”

“It’s past ten,” Lily deadpanned.

“Ha ha. So how are we going to get tickets?” Marlene questioned.

“Well, I got offered that job at the pool over the summer. Have you heard anything from the library yet?” Lily bit into her second piece of toast as she asked, and crumbs littered the top of er pyjama shirt.

“Nothing yet. Though I think that has something to do with the fact that Mrs Pince just has it our for me. I swear the old bat detests anything that’s not a book,” Marlene complained.

Lily could practically hear the sound of Marlene’s eyes rolling through the receiver. Before she could respond, her sister appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, signalling to Lily that she wanted to use the phone as well. Lily put her hand over the receiver and looked at Petunia with irritance.

“What is it, Tuney?” Lily moaned.

“I’m expecting a call from Vernon any minute, I need you to get off the phone. Now,” she said with finality.

“Why should I? Your phone calls aren’t any more important than mine.”

“Grow up Lily, just give me the-”

“No, I’m not finished talking to-’

“Girls!” A new voice shouted.

It was their mother, and an unnaturally stern look painted her features. Silence reigned throughout the kitchen, as their bickering had ceased. Lily instantly felt guilty for being ridiculous. She knew money was tight at the moment for her parents, and she usually did everything she could to keep that stress as low as possibly. There was just something about her sister that got under her skin.

“I’ve got to go Marls. Meet me at the pool later for my first shift.” Lily said, hanging the phone back on the hook on the wall.

She avoided making eye contact with her sister as she walked out of the kitchen, as she didn’t think she could bear the smugness that had inevitably crossed her bony face. She trudged back upstairs to her bedroom to get ready for the day. She reminded herself that she was getting out of the house and away from her sister, and she was being paid for it, and didn’t feel so bad at all.

****

When Lily arrived at the pool later that day, there were people everywhere. She couldn’t say she too surprised - this summer was expected to be the hottest on record - but it was slightly overwhelming when your first day working as a lifeguard was for a pool with hundreds of people. She tried to put her nerves away with the rest of the things in her locker. She had managed to bring her heart rate back down to a normal pace, and started to walk out the building to the pool.

“Alright, Evans?” A familiar voice called out to her.

She froze. She knew exactly who that voice belonged to, and up until very recently the owner had been the bane of her existence. Some higher being must really hate her, because now the sound of that voice was enough to turn her legs to jelly. She could picture him now; his golden skin contrasting with the jet black mess of his hair, a gleeful grin ever-present on his face. No doubt the rest of the Marauders as they called themselves were in tow, and Lily was all alone with no one to keep her upright should she faint. She of course, couldn’t admit defeat and let him know that she had a soft spot for him, she didn’t want to look like a fool after all these years of loathing him. She realised too late that several minutes had passed without her saying anything, standing frozen in the middle of the entryway to the pool like a deer in the headlights.

“Er - Are you actually alright, Lily? You seem a bit pale,” James said, concerned lacing his tone.

“Haven’t you noticed that before? Maybe you need some new glasses, Potter,” she snipped, walking off to the patrol tower.

“What did you say this time, Prongs?” She heard someone say, Remus, if she had to guess.

She blocked the rest of the conversation out, as she was trying to calm her nerves again. So, not only was she now dealing with an overfilled pool on her first day, she now had to overcome the distraction that was James Potter. And what a distraction he had recently proven to be.

Lily perched herself atop the lifeguard tower, doing her best to oversee the visitors to the pool. Hers had a mind of their own, and kept drifting back to the area where James and co. had positioned themselves. She watched as he took his shirt off, and nearly fell the couple of metres off the tower. She had never really noticed before, but apparently being captain of their school’s football team had a couple of perks (other than everyone in the school wanting to be your best mate). Unfortunately, she was caught in the act by the only other person she loathed more than Potter: Severus Snape.

She couldn't even understand what he was doing there at the pool; he hated the sun, people and swimming. Surely the local pool during summer was his own personal hell. She could see his snarl from across the pool, as he followed the path of her eyes to where she’d just been staring. She watched as he made his way over to her, and rolled her eyes. She knew exactly what was coming. Where was her best friend to save her from all these dastardly men?

“Whatever happened to ‘Potter is an arrogant toerag I want nothing to do with?” She heard him yell from the bottom of the tower.

“Leave me alone, Sev,” she sighed.

“You’re practically salivating watching him take his shirt off, just like every other girl in our year,” he snarled.

She had had enough. She climbed down, fuming as she went. He was slightly taller than her, and when she was on the ground she had to look up at his waxy skin to catch his eye.

“I told you to leave me alone. I don't want anything to do with you anymore, Sev. You made your choice; I can't be friends with someone like you anymore.” She was stern, not showing a trace of weakness.

“What's going on over here then, Snivelly?” a new voice sounded from behind her.

Lily felt her heart jump into her throat. James had walked up beside her whilst she was preoccupied. Any coherent thought and had flown the window, and all she was worried about was whether or not she had remembered to brush her hair. That was until she remembered the scenario in which he had entered, and her temper flared.

“I don't need you fighting my battles, Potter,” she said, nostrils flaring.

She saw Severus roll his eyes.

“You know me, Evans, I’ll take any excuse to to knock Snivelly down a few pegs,” James said.

He was smiling, but it didn’t reach his eyes in the way that made her melt. It was more of a snarl, and it left a bitter taste in her mouth. She turned back to Snape, her arms folded.

“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m trying to work. Both of you, leave me alone now.”

She climbed back up the tower, thus ending the conversation. She was suddenly hyper-aware of the close proximity between her butt on the ladder and James’s head. A blush fanned across her cheeks, and she was thankful neither of them could see her face.

Back up in the safety of her tower of solitude, she watched over the pool. Sev eventually left the pool, relieving her of at least some of the stress of the day. For a brief period, there were no incidents; that was until, James decided to make use of the pools facilities. She watched from the tower, as he walked around to the diving board. He climbed, surpassing the 3ft board; he kept climbing, past the 6t board; until he eventually reached the board 9ft above the pool. She followed his eyes to where his friends were sitting; they were all egging him on, thumbs up and cheering. Lily rolled her eyes. All four of them were idiots.

Her head snapped back when she heard the creak of the board bounce. It didn’t sound very sturdy at all, and all the  muscles in Lily’s body tensed as she watched him. He lost his footing slightly on the last bounce, and fell into the water with a loud splash. Lily dove into the water in an instant. She kicked as fast as she could, her heart racing. How could be be so STUPID, she thought angrily. A stream of bubbles followed her to where James was still sinking to the bottom. She lugged him up to the top, and they both spluttered and gasped for air.

“Alright, Evans?” James asked.

His ever-present grin was plastered across his face, though Lily thought she saw a pinkish tinge to his cheeks. It was probably the only time in her life she had seen his hair flat, though he wasted no time in messing it up again.

“What were you trying to do, you giant idiot!” Lily shrieked in reply.

“It’s not my fault the diving board is a hundred years old!” He remarked, incredulously.

“It doesn’t take a genius to think twice before using it then, does it James?” She rebutted.

“Lucky I have you here to save me from being a bellend then,” he said, softly this time.

“How am I supposed to always save you from being a bellend, James? That’s a 24 hour job and when would I get time to sleep?”

“You and Remus can take it in turns, I expect.”

“You drive me mental, you know that right?” She said, exasperated.

“I’d have to be a bellend not to,” he said, smirking.

She splashed water in his face, taking him by surprise. His mouth gaped in shock, and she laughed with her whole body. He tackled her, wrapping his arms around her body so that she couldn’t get away. A shiver ran through her body, and her cheeks began to heat up again. He loosened his grip just enough so that she could turn to face him. A similar tinge of pink coloured his own cheeks, and it made her feel like jelly. He leant in, and her breath hitched in her throat. His lips touched hers ever so softly, and she could feel the warmth of his breath.

“Oi James, quit snogging and get back here we’ve got hot chips!” She heard Sirius’s voice yell.

She smiled against his mouth, and noticed a definite red spreading across James’s cheeks. He unfurled one of his arms around her, presumably to toss Sirius the finger as she heard him whoop with laughter and walk away. He kissed her again and she wrapped her arms around his neck, twirling her fingers in the curls at the nape of his neck.

“Think I can persuade you to watch over me?” James asked.

Lily pulled back, pursing her lips in feigned deliberation.

“You know my eyesight is shocking, so I can’t actually see whatever face you’re pulling. Your ethereal beauty is lost on me without my glasses,” he sighed.

“Shut up, Potter, or I’ll change my mind.”