The Tale of Emily Pickering

By Tess Barber

Emily Pickering was a girl who couldn’t do many things.
She couldn’t cook yummy food.
She couldn’t make a pretty garden grow.
She didn’t know how to clean.
And she could never make her hair nice like other girls.
But one thing Emily could do was fly.

The reason Emily could fly was because she wasn’t happy on the ground.
Emily didn’t like standing.
Emily didn’t like walking.
She liked running a little bit, but when she stopped running she realized she hadn’t run far enough and she was very unhappy.

But Emily did like the sky.
She liked the clouds.
She liked the sun.
She even liked the rain.

So Emily spent a lot of time looking up at the sky. But when she didn’t look where she was going, Emily ran into things; like people, or walls.
This made her even unhappier.

Then one day Emily decided she didn’t want to walk any more.
Instead she began to fly.

Mother! I’m Blind to Signs.

Don’t trip. Hon.
Don’t you dare slip. Darl.
Watch your feet, just don’t try to leap.
Jump. Skip. Run. Dance or. Fly Sweetie.
Fly.
The sky? Child keep your eyes down.
Feel your shoes on the ground?
Rub your toes in the earth. Remember the texture of your birth.
Your life is plotted from the start. Sugar.
Don’t stray from the path. Sugar.
With eyes on the heavens, with a mind on your heart,
Do you have time to see you can’t?
Can’t, shan’t, grow or move; journey- further.
Grow up?
Up?
Oh Bell you’re looking up. Grasping at the air.
Aren’t you aware, sweet, there’s nothing there?
Beware.
No, don’t just stare. See. Look.
Look there.
No. Don’t you dare.
Don’t you know; can’t you see?
Those wings. Don’t. Fly. Don’t. Grow. Won’t. Be.
What will it be, Darl? Fight and Flight?
Or Fight and Fall?
Oh Sweet. The signs tell All.
Sweetie?
Sweetie...
Sweetie!

Emily flew over cities.
She flew over rivers and over seas.
She flew over forests and over fields.
She flew across deserts and once she flew to the mountains.
But there the ground was too close; so she didn’t do that again.

When she flew Emily was happy.

One day someone noticed her up in the sky.
And he followed her.
The Boy followed her through the city.
He followed her across the fields and through the forests.
He even followed her across the rivers.

Lucky before she reached an ocean, Emily started to notice that the Boy was following her.
After a while she began to fly a little lower.
Then a little lower still.
Until before she knew it Emily was flying next to the Boy as he walked.

And they talked.
They talked and talked.
They talked and walked.
They talked and Emily flew.

Soon, they didn’t know how far they had travelled or even where they were.
The Boy thought of how he had seen many wonderful things while he had travelled with Emily. He had even seen someone fly! On thinking this he looked at Emily and realized that she was walking now.

Emily had been walking for some time and she hadn’t even realized. She was having so much fun talking with the Boy.

From then on Emily and the Boy did every thing together.
They ate together.
They studied together.
They went out together.
They even slept together.

Sometimes they would take things together and it felt like they were flying together. But they would always come down again and soon the boy wanted Emily to stop. He was afraid that it would make her remember what flying was really like and then go fly with out him.
Because now Emily only flew sometimes; when she was unhappy on the ground.
But she would always come back down when she missed the Boy.

Soon though, the Boy didn’t want her to fly at all. It was unfair, he said. She couldn’t take him with her. It was like she didn’t want him around.
Emily understood this and stopped flying.

She didn’t mind though. She had so much fun with the Boy that she even stopped looking up at the sky.
Soon she forgot she could ever do such a thing as fly.

Emily liked the Boy a lot.
She liked it when he smiled.
She liked it when he laughed.
And when he was sad she liked to take care of him.

But sometimes there were bad days. Sometimes Emily was sad.
Sometimes the Boy got frustrated because she couldn’t cook yummy food for him. So instead they got takeaway. It cost a lot of money.
Sometimes he was frustrated because she couldn’t clean well. And the house was very messy.
Then sometimes Emily looked at other girls with prettier hair then her. She worried that the Boy noticed these girls and wished she were more like them.
But then she remembered how much she cared about the Boy and it didn’t matter.

At Home With You

Your careless soul drips across my floor,
I slip in it on my way to the bathroom.

Your noising wants clutter up the bedroom floor,
I get lost amongst the mess.

Your unnecessary needs are growing fungus in my pantry,
I gag on the rot.

Your child-like thoughts dance through the lounge room,
I can’t see the television. 

Your overweight dreams stand in the doorway,
I push past them to get to work.

Your wicked happiness hides out in the garden,
I lost it amongst the weeds.

Your beloved fears are crying under the covers,
And I can’t help but keep them company.

Emily was also unhappy because of the sex.
She felt like there was something wrong with her because she wasn’t satisfied in the end.
This didn’t really bother her, but the Boy began to get frustrated.
He would try harder and harder but this only hurt Emily, and made her unhappy.

She couldn’t understand why this mattered so much to the Boy.
She began to feel like she didn’t know him very well any more.
This was scary because she cared so much for him.

Pathological Escapist

We ache and drip with gentle harmonic selfishness,
These strange feelings of love eating their own disillusionment,
Until all that’s left are the stains on my bed sheets,
And the marks across my skin.

I wish I could explain this to you,
Sit you down,
Ignore that broken-ill-driven-empty-thrashing
Look in your eye.
And Speak.

Speak in a way that makes coherency,
And marches past the look in your eye,
To find a resonance,
Amongst the harmony of our self inflicted doubt,
And the Emptiness.

But instead I get up off the red-white sheets,
Without a word,
And the yearning seeps away,
Against the sputter of the coffee pot.

Emily tried to forget these new worries, but soon the bad days became more than the good days. She felt that all the Boy could see was the bad things. She wondered why he had loved her in the first place.
Soon all she could see in herself were the bad things too; the things she couldn’t do, and the people she wasn’t.  She couldn’t remember what made her different from all the other people.

She didn’t like being around the Boy when she felt like this.
What if he realized he didn’t really love her?
What if he thought she had tricked him?

So she tried harder.
She tried to cook.
She tried to clean.
And the Boy seemed happy.
And Emily felt happy.

She also felt uncomfortable. Like her shoes didn’t quite fit right.

The Boy began spending less and less time at home. He didn’t seem to notice the change in Emily. Soon even he didn’t remember what had made her special to him. She was just like the other people.

He went out with his friends more and more. Emily didn’t mind this though. She felt happier when he was away, because then she could take off her uncomfortable shoes.

But she also realized how unhappy she was.

Wordless

I don’t know what to say,
Except that….
I want it all to go away.
I want to watch it fray,
Until the last tangled threads
Of this over worn cloth,
Fall apart,
Untangling,
Hanging,
And
Blowing away.
Just like I blew away,
At your lust
-that is, and,
I’d like to think you were blown away,
And then maybe you’ll stay,
And then, maybe, you’ll say,
That I blow you away.
Just so that I can reply,
That I want you to go,
Away. Please. 
I want it all to go away.
But…
No. That’s not it, is it?
That’s not how it is at all.
No. These threads stay,
Strung, wrung, tight,
And,
You keep coming back,
Not so you can stay,
And never to say…
Well, anything really.
And that, my love,
Is perhaps where we relate?
Where you don’t have anything to say,
To me,
And I don’t know what to say,
Or how to say,
To you,
To let you know,
That I want you to go,
I want it all to go,
Away.

One day the Boy didn’t come home for a long time.
At first Emily was worried. What if something bad had happened?
Then Emily was scared. What if he never came back?

Soon she was just sad. She missed the Boy but, more than that, she missed how colorful and special life had been when they first met. Could they have been the same people? She felt like those people were strangers.

She decided she had to fly again. If she could fly the Boy would come home and it would be like it was before.
So Emily tried and tried.
But she just couldn’t remember.
She couldn’t remember how to fly.

But then the Boy came home.
It was like nothing had happened.

Emily was angry.
She didn’t like this new Boy and this new Emily.
She was jealous of those happy strangers in the past.

Then it was Emily’s turn to go away.
One day, after Emily cooked a breakfast and cleaned the house, she walked out the door.

No.

You didn’t think, precious,
That I could, did you?
No.
You didn’t see it coming, darl,
Did you?
Could you?
No?
I did.
I saw it like the wolf pack,
Wandering behind the red firs,
Heat blazing, through the ice-laced leaves,
Watching, waiting,
Approaching.
No, Honey.
No. Perhaps you didn’t know,
Not as well as you thought,
Not as clearly as you thought,
Not as in control-
As you thought.
Not quite.
Wouldn’t you like to go back?
Take it back? Take it from me.
The word, the power, the will.
The thought. 
The precious thought.
No. Sweetness. No. 
Though I honestly wish I could.
Take it back- that is.
But, no, I can’t.
It’s there.
And I won’t.
No, my dear I won’t.
No more than I could have lost it,
In the beginning- that is.
I couldn’t shake it, 
Couldn’t forget it, run from it,
Pretend its not there,
Its padded feet whispering to the snow,
Just a little ways behind,
No.
I couldn’t forget,
The first glimpse of teeth,
In the dulling light of dusk.
The first sharp edge of thought.
The first searing rush of apprehension,
Coursing through the veins.
No one could expect to prevent it.
No. Don’t think I’m to blame, Darl,
Coloring my helplessness as omission.
If you could have seen,
If you could have watched,
From the beginning- that is,
If you could have felt the approach,
The closing in.
The howl,
Against the red against the white.
But. No. 
And now its here.
Its putrid smell of conclusion,
Of flesh ripped open,
Exposed.
No pet. No more hiding.
No more.
The refusal screams against the howl,
Against the red against the white.
The cold white snow.
Oh no. But can you hear it my love?
Will you hear it?
Oh won’t you hear it, precious?
No.  
No? No.

She walked and walked.
She walked through the city.
She walked over fields.
She walked through the forests.
And she walked over the rivers (on bridge of course).
But then she reached the ocean.

Her legs hurt.
Her heart was sore.
She wanted to keep walking,
But she couldn’t any more.

Then Emily Pickering looked up.
That was the day she flew, and never came down again.