anyway i’m just floatin round here checkin my inbox evry ten minutes or so. will check it during english 2day 2. we’re sposed 2 be wrapping this efriend thing soon + we got class time 2 work on our final assignment. guess i might have 2 work with what i’ve got.
hope yr ok. be nice.
sim
* * *
From: Milla Gainsberg [[email protected]]
To: Sim [[email protected]]
Subject: so dumb
* * *
You are a big loser and I can’t believe you did that to me. You are just like all the other guys I’ve ever met who act like five-year-olds. That was really dumb. I’m really annoyed. I was honestly freaking out for you. I thought you were in deep trouble. I was worrying for days. And I have enough REAL stuff to worry about.
* * *
From: Sim [[email protected]]
To: Milla Gainsberg [[email protected]]
Subject: misfits
* * *
gainsy. check out below. it’s about u + me. my first attempt @ a poem. don’t laugh.
s.
Mavericks. Outsiders. People who don’t fit.
Us versus them. We go with our noses.
We’re not good little boys and girls waiting for a pat on the head.
Creative and flowing.
Writing, making, wondering, asking questions.
Questions that have no answers.
It’s our job to do what others only dream of.
* * *
From: Milla Gainsberg [[email protected]]
To: Sim [[email protected]]
Subject: right back at you
* * *
STOP TRYING TO SUCK UP WITH POEMS.
HERE’S A REAL POEM:
WHILE MILLA WAS ASLEEP ALL SNUG IN HER BED
SHE JUMPED TO A SOUND THAT FILLED HER WITH DREAD.
A POUNDING ON HER AUNT’S DOOR IN THE EARLY MORN
REVEALED HER DRUNK FATHER STUMBLING AROUND ON THE LAWN.
HE BROKE THROUGH A WINDOW AND THREATENED TO KILL HIS WIFE
EVERYONE HID IN THE BATHROOM,
LOCKED THE DOORS FROM THE STRIFE.
MILLA CALLED THE COPS ON HER CELL AND HID HER FACE.
SOON THEY DRAGGED HIM AWAY IN TEARS AND DISGRACE.
NOW EVERYONE’S GOING TO KNOW AND MILLA’S LIFE IS A HOLE AND
THE PERSON SHE THOUGHT WAS HER BEST FRIEND IS REALLY JUST AN ASSHOLE.
GLAD YOU CAN TRUST ME. BUT NOW I CAN’T TRUST YOU.
M
* * *
From: Sim [[email protected]]
To: Milla Gainsberg [[email protected]]
Subject: yr poem
* * *
this guy has 2 be stopped.
don’t think about his career or if he’ll be angry or what yr mum will think or any of that stuff. u had no choice. you’ve done enough 2 protect that dude’s ass already + he forced u in2 a corner. maybe he even needs it 2 happen so he can realise he’s got 2 stop.
tell me what’s goin on.
lots of like,
heaps of like,
s.
ps did i tell u that since lauren + deepspace went 2 cops i’ve been getting treated like i’m 4 yrs old? all these discussions going on btween deepspace and raj that i’m excluded from. part of me doesn’t want to know what they’re saying. the other part sits upright in bed, mouth dry, trying 2 piece together the half-words i’m hearing. i’ve tried the glass against the door thing to hear what’s goin on but it doesn’t work. i’ve also tried giving them the cold shoulder but they don’t seem 2 care. being me sucks. tell me more about u.
* * *
From: Milla Gainsberg [[email protected]]
To: Sim [[email protected]]
Subject: will people guess?
* * *
Sim
Heaps of like? That’s just dumb.
So I’m OK. But everyone at school stares at me, which sucks ass. Wonder if people now know that Dad beats Mom up. Think they’ll join the dots? I don’t know why, but I don’t want anyone to know. That’ll kill me if they know.
And I know this is sick, but I was kind of glad Dad punched Danny at the dance. He was kind of slimy and kept trying to put his hand up my dress when we were in the limo. Who knew what he would’ve tried if Dad hadn’t gone postal and broken everything up.
When I went back to my aunt’s and told everyone, Mom couldn’t look at me. It was like for the first time she realized him hitting her was real, ’cause he’d hit someone else and it wasn’t just some dream (nightmare) she’d been having. She almost looked relieved. Like it finally wasn’t her fault.
But then Dad came over drunk a few nights ago and scared the hell out of us.
Thanks for e’ing back so much. I was pretty mad. Don’t think I would’ve tried to stay in contact if you hadn’t pushed me back into it.
What the hell are we going to hand in for our assignment? All I have is a paragraph about playtypusses (playtypie?) and stolen Aboriginal kids. What do I say about you? That your hobbies include finger-freezing?
BTW, what the hell? What’s with all the whispering? I’m telling you, Raj and Deepspace are not to be trusted. Maybe they’re planning to cut off your fingers while you sleep? And Lozza is a slut. You know that, right?
Milla
* * *
From: Sim [[email protected]]
To: Milla Gainsberg [[email protected]]
Subject: back 2 cops
* * *
hey m
thanks 4 e’ing back + not going 2 nuts @ me.
is that good, that yr ma has realised this stuff?
dunno about the assignment. mine’s due in less than a week. kind of seems unimportant, considering evrything.
i don’t know about lozza being a slut and i dunno what her and deepspace said when they went to the cop station, but i gotta go back down there this morning. to clear up facts apparently.
here goes.
s.
ps what the hell’s ‘postal’? you’ve said that b4.
* * *
From: Milla Gainsberg [[email protected]]
To: Sim [[email protected]]
Subject: what’s going on?
* * *
Hello? What happened? It’s been a day. Is everything cool?
* * *
AMERICANISMS: POSTAL
After several workplace shootings by disgruntled U.S. post office workers, the phrase ‘postal’ came into common usage in the United States.
‘Kelly smashed the plates on the floor, screamed at her dad, and kicked a plant pot over! She’s gone postal!’
* * *
* * *
From: Sim [[email protected]]
To: Milla Gainsberg [[email protected]]
Subject: traitor?
* * *
went 2 cops. the dude plugged me with q’s on deepspace + lauren. said their interview was ‘unsatisfactory’. that deepspace was ‘evasive’ and lauren laughed during it. i can imagine both of those things.
i told them we all wanted 2 take fingers 2 the cops that nite but that we were scared which is why it took a couple of days 2 fess up. but they kept drilling me on fiona (deepspace) and why lauren would have found the situation ‘humorous’. i think my lies were pretty ‘unsatisfactory’ too. i reckon deepspace is goin down 2 chinatown.
they drove me back 2 our place. have u ever ridden in a cop car b4? it’s awesome. i was in the front seat so i felt more like the dude’s partner in some smalltown buddy movie than a 2-bit finger-hustler. (but i’m starting 2 think that the end of this movie’s gonna be a downer.)
i know u saw this coming all the way but have i totally sold deepspace out by not being convincing?
s.
* * *
From: Milla Gainsberg [millag@beverly
glengirlshigh.net]
To: Sim [[email protected]]
Subject: look after yourself
* * *
YOU haven’t done anything wrong. You told the truth and Deepspace and Lauren have to deal with the ramifications of their sketchy actions. Why are you so worried? Maybe you did sell Deepspace out, but only because SHE did something wrong. Why are you trying to protect her so much? She could be a psychopathic finger-o-phile. Maybe it’s better if you did sell her out so she gets carted away and you can stay in your house with Raj and be SAFE. Right now you’re worried your caregiver is a homicidal freak.
Oh. I guess that’s the same advice I should be giving to myself …
You’re right about my dad. But it’s the same as Deepspace. We can’t worry about their jobs or reputations or if they’ll be mad at us. We have to protect ourselves and the people around us.
And anyway, Dad’s already mad at me. He’s been mad at me since I came out of the womb. Probably because I remind him that he’s an asshole. Every time he sees me being normal and doing normal human stuff, it makes him realize that he is not normal and so he hates himself. To stop hating himself he shifts the focus onto me and Mom and bro. Hate, hate, hate.
But get this … you’re never going to believe it.
We’re back at the house. With Dad.
That’s right, WITH Dad.
His sleazy lawyer paid off Danny’s family so they didn’t press charges, and the cops were so starstruck that they barely held him in jail after he broke into my aunt’s house. Then my mom, who’s been getting her head beaten in for years, told them that he’s never hit her before and it was just a one-off episode. That it’s all been blown out of proportion!
So we all moved back in. Both Mom and Dad are pretending as if nothing is different. My aunt’s mad and Mom won’t answer her phone calls. It’s the dumbest, weirdest adult bullshit ever. Bro is smoking more weed than ever and his eyes are permanently red. Before I was worried about it, now I’m just mad. He’s just being a dick now.
I put Narcotics Anonymous pamphlets under his door. He probably used them to roll up his spliffs … that’s got me thinking. I’ve got a plan …
So what am I supposed to do? Go back to normal? Dad has this fake happy act going on, but I don’t buy it. Why can’t adults just be normal and tell the truth?
Hmm, I’ve got another plan. But I need your help. You’re the wannabe (no offense) filmmaker. Write me a short script that would sum up how my dad should be behaving with me now that we are back home. I’ll give it to him and tell him it’s an idea for a new TV show by this up-and-coming writer. If he doesn’t get it, then we both know there’s no hope in getting to the truth. TV and film scripts are the only things that really make him think.
Write it quick; I feel like I might do something bad like poison him.
Milla
* * *
From: Sim [[email protected]]
To: Milla Gainsberg [[email protected]]
Subject: Script
* * *
EXT. GAINSBERG HOUSE - DAY
A bright yellow Hummer pulls into the driveway of the Gainsberg house. The home is perfect in every way. Crisp white walls, two-storey, tall coconut palms out front, rose trellis, white picket fence, enormous front door. Flamingos frolic on the lush green lawn.
MICHAEL GAINSBERG exits the Hummer, smile on his face, twelve long-stemmed red roses behind his back, a large shopping bag in his other hand. He makes his way quickly to the front door, dodging the flamingos. He enters the house.
INT. GAINSBERG HOUSE - DAY
Michael Gainsberg stops in the grand entrance foyer. To the left is the lounge room, to the right another living area, straight ahead the kitchen. Two staircases cascade down, one either side, into the foyer.
MICHAEL
Honey, I’m ho-o-o-o-me!
Michael’s wife, GIA, ex-model and still a hottie at 40, comes to the bannister at the top of the stairs. She smiles at her husband. She is missing several teeth.
GIA
Hey, honey. What’s that behind your back?
She slides down the bannister to meet him and he catches her at the bottom, kissing her passionately and then revealing the roses.
MICHAEL
For the only woman I’ve ever loved.
Gia takes the roses.
GIA
But, honey, aren’t you going to clock me one? You’ve been home for almost a minute.
Michael smiles at his wife’s jovial wit.
MICHAEL
Not tonight, honey. This is the start of a new era. The new me. I’ve even taken the photograph of my lawyer out of my wallet and replaced it with one of you.
Michael’s daughter, MILLA, and her brother, JOSH, appear at the top of the stairs. They are wearing their Sunday best and call in unison.
MILLA / JOSH
Daddyyyyyyyyyyyyy!
Milla runs down the left-hand staircase and Josh down the right, both squealing with joy at their father’s arrival in the family home.
When they reach their father he sweeps them up into his grip and spins around merrily. Gia looks on, smiling that gap-toothed grin, so happy to see such joy on her children’s faces.
MICHAEL
(Mock surprise)
Hang on. What’s that bag there?
They stop spinning and Milla and Josh raid the shopping bag, Josh pulling out a brand new baseball mitt. Up close, we see that Josh’s eyes are bloodshot. He is obviously stoned.
MICHAEL
There ya go, Slugger.
Michael ruffles Josh’s hair. Josh tries to put the glove on but he’s so stoned he can’t work out how to get his fingers into it.
Milla pulls out a brand new dress.
MILLA
Wow, Armani. Daddy, you shouldn’t have.
MICHAEL
To make up for that little tête-a-tête we had at the dance. It’s just like your Mom’s.
Gia and Milla flick a look at one another. They know that Gia’s dress was torn to shreds.
MILLA
Oh, Daddy, I’m so happy.
Milla leaps into her father’s arms and they swing around again.
At that very moment, as Michael realises that he is the luckiest man on Earth, we realise that Josh has disappeared from the room. Two vicious Doberman Pinschers run into the foyer from the back of the house.
MICHAEL
Who le–
Milla steps aside and the dogs simultaneously leap at Michael’s throat, knocking him to the ground.
Josh re-enters the room from the back and he, Gia and Milla cuddle in close to each other and look on, smiling as the dogs ‘play’ with Michael Gainsberg. Gainsberg screams, trying to fend off the dogs, but it’s too late. His blood is streaming across the marble floor.
MILLA
Oh, Daddy, you’re so silly.
The dogs continue to maul the man as opening credits roll and the series title hits the screen:
WORLD’S GREATEST DAD
hope he likes it.
sim
* * *
From: Milla Gainsberg [[email protected]]
To: Sim [[email protected]]
Subject: perfect
* * *
Holy shit. That’s full-on. I didn’t think planet-mending hippies dug horror. I like it. I really like it. I think it might actually work. I’ve printed it out and I’m going to leave it on Dad’s desk where his assistant always leaves new scripts …
Heard something outside the window … shit. Someone’s there …
OK, so I ran to the window and screamed and whoever it was ran away. My curtains were down but I guess they can kind of see through them ’cause the light is on. This is not cool. My brain can’t worry about more than my dad being a psycho.
That’s it. I’m going to get the camera. I’ll set it up and let it record whenever I’m at home at night and whoever looks in that window is going to
get filmed. I’m OVER this!
KIDS ARE SUPPOSED TO FEEL SAFE IN THEIR HOMES. I NEVER FEEL SAFE EVER.
Wait … something upstairs. Banging … it’s Mom. THAT’S IT
* * *
From: Sim [[email protected]]
To: Milla Gainsberg [[email protected]]
Subject: huh?
* * *
that’s what?
don’t freak me out.
s.
* * *
From: Milla Gainsberg [[email protected]]
To: Sim [[email protected]]
Subject: hiding
* * *
Sim. I did something bad. I’m hiding at Hailey’s house. I had to tell her. I told her everything. She doesn’t get it like you do. She’s looking at me like I have a disease. I’m in big trouble. In every way possible.
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