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SandiCherry













SandiCherry

is excerpted from



Sandi Burrill
and the
Beach of Flames







































SandiCherry



By

Dominic Jericho





























© Dominic Jericho 2017



This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent publisher.

The moral right of Dominic Jericho has been asserted.

First published in Great Britain 2017







This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.









SandiCherry







Prologue


I never felt this alive before. Like speeding in a dark tunnel deep underground. As fast as I could run, adrenaline prickled through my veins like a forgotten friend. My rebellion against them drove me further: I wanted to taste it, I wanted to push it, I wanted to feel the warm smoke pull me down and rise through my throat as it bruised my tainted soul with deathly beauty. She was beside me all the time, holding my hand as we both sank inside the mellow sweetness of nicotine oblivion.

The pale filter hung from her lips as blue fumes erupted from her mouth. She swung a delicate green handbag in painted fingertips, back and forth, as though it were a toy. Words were redundant in the face of my baby’s innocence so flagrantly corrupted.

I felt the horrible absence of her hand as she skittled to the kitchen to fetch a plate of brownies, laced with kirsch and vodka. The momentary withdrawal set doubt wandering amongst my thoughts, a familiar companion welcomed back into the fold. I wanted her back as quickly as her legs would carry her, back with me, where should I wish, I could scoop up her lithe body in my arms and throw kisses on her dainty neck.

It would not happen, I would not summon the courage. Not now, not in a million years. It was the sight of her that kept me alive. The mere presence of possibility that I wanted to remain with me and keep my soul company for eternity.

That day, that bittersweet day. Her words resounded in my head, clarion calls to a tender memory. The touch of her skeletal caress against my skin haunted me, a crawling sensation as pervasive as it is irresistible. I knew now she would never leave me again.







Cherry
I

Desire pours from every orifice of my being. I can feel it. I want to kiss her on the mouth in front of everyone, partly for the shock value, partly just to taste her lips. It is not enough just to watch her, waiting patiently for the delicate opportunity to present itself. Like a child sitting on the edge of her bed waiting for Father Christmas, I am now poised. Scouring, searching, evaluating every single syllable that drops from those precious lips like solid gold snowflakes. My words are nothing compared to the shapes her mouth makes, seductive power echos through her entire being, whispering the promise of sweet oblivion, the glorious comsumption of thought, everything absorbed in one ascendant, sublime climax that would unite our souls permanently.




Cherry
II


I. Don’t. Want. To. Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do. So what if I want to go out all night and hang out with boys who smoke. So what if I want to lay in his lap, my mouth tantalisingly close the vessel of his desire. So what if I go clubbing and dance all night til my body is ridden with sweat and I am completely and totally and absolutely wasted. So what? So what if I let him kiss me on my chest, so what if I whisper sweet lies into his ear and then go off with someone else? There’s no-one here to stop me. So what if I want to fuck him and then run off and leave him in the middle of the night. He’d do the same to me no doubt. So what if I want to experiment with drugs, hashish, weed, ecstasy, THC? So what if I want to experiment with sex so what if I let him put something there just to see if it’ll get me off so what if I let him tongue me there and scream with utter delight so what if I experiment with girls so what if I want it backwards sideways on top underneath tangled up behind a bikeshed? So what if I want to kiss her gently on the lips and let her tell me that she loves me that she’ll never let me go ever until the day we both leave this earth forever. So what? I don’t want to. I. Don’t. Want. To.

Cherry
III



This is it. My opportunity. I could have her tonight. Could consume those sweet lips, could cradle her head in my lap, could kiss her soft white neck. She looks so sad. I wish I could cheer her up. I wish she would let me cheer her up. Let me, go further than I have ever been allowed to go before. To hold her. Feel the gentle weight of her bosom on my chest, the satisfying proximity of her entire body beside mine, to know she does not exist anywhere else in the world except for me.





Cherry
IV


My first snog was with Callum. He was the brother of my best friend Tracie, but we always called her Trixabelle or Trixie because she always played tricks on grown-ups. Callum was a hoot. Seven years older than Trixie, and far cooler. I used to dream about him all the time. One night when I was thirteen Trixie and I were playing netball in her back yard. Callum appeared at the window and we waved him over to come play with us. At first he just stood at the door, munching on an apple, watching us. I used to twirl unnecessarily so he’d be able to see up my skirt. I think he liked watching me but I was never sure. He just gazed with empty eyes at the two of us.
Then Trixie fell and hurt her knee. She’d grazed it on some gravel and some stones got in the wound. She went in to put antiseptic on and after that she hobbled around with a limp so she couldn’t play for a couple of weeks. So I used to go round and play with Callum instead while she got better. He didn’t seem to mind. In fact he seemed more interested in playing with just little old me. One summer evening, after we had been playing for about five minutes and we had both got really hot and sweaty, he threw the ball at me. I caught it and then threw it to a part of the garden that couldn’t be seen from the window. Deliberately. He went to fetch it and I followed him, taking care to move quietly so he wouldn’t notice me creep up behind him. When he turned around he didn’t know I was there and he knocked into me, pushing me over onto the grass. I lay there laughing and giggling at him. The next thing I knew he was on top of me and we were kissing. His tongue tasted of blackcurrant chewing gum and apples. I didn’t mind. I liked boys kissing me. It was exciting.

Callum didn’t speak to me after that. I think he’d realised that he’d done something he shouldn’t have. He was never even in the house when I went round to play with Trixie, let alone would he allow himself to be in the same room as me. It was only a kiss, I was afraid he wouldn’t talk to me because I was doing it wrong. That was before my mum had a go about the wet patch on the front of my skirt. A few years later I realised what had happened.

My memories of that time are mixed with memories of the growing unpopularity of the prime minister. Callum was dead passionate about politics. In fact it would be the only thing he would really talk about in-depth with anyone. He kept saying how even though the current prime minister was unpopular and a suspect leader, he’d much prefer to have the PM be the cleverest man in the room rather than just a guy who looks good in a suit. I didn’t really understand what it meant at the time. Later that year, the leader of the opposing Conservative party got in and things began to change in our country. I was only fourteen at the time so didn’t understand it all, but my father used to come home every night fuming. He said there was no public money for the school textbooks he needed to teach anymore, that it had all been swallowed up by the middle classes. The kids in his class who had rich parents could afford to buy them books, but others did without. Which led to more problems in the classroom, and fights in the playground later. One night my Dad came home with a bloody nose. One of his students had thrown the textbook his parents had bought him at my Dad as he tried to break up a fight between him and another boy who didn’t have the book.

Other things started to change too. My mum, having brought up me and Razzy wanted to go out and get a job. Despite having a degree and being a woman of reading, she could only get a part time job as a receptionist at the local council, which she found infuriating, although not as infuriating, she told us, as ‘the arrogant Tory councillors who think women should be seen and not heard, and at home doing the washing and the cleaning’.

Pretty soon there were fewer jobs around, and we used to see homeless people on the streets, especially when we went down to London for Christmas shopping. Trixie left for a public school, as her parents decided they could afford it (although my Dad kept on moaning that he was sure he had seen Trixie’s father chumming up to the headmaster at the local Conservative club).

Politics didn’t seem so much a subject to be studied as part of the way of life in our house. I was sucked in. I inherited and began displaying radical values I didn’t know I had. I started watching the Sunday morning political interviews. I would analyse the leaders to see if I thought they were telling the truth or not. I stopped reading the Mirror and started reading the Independent. I started reading books by previous political leaders like Blair and Clinton, but found these unreliable and so turned to Marx, Lenin and Kafka. I discovered Philosophy within politics.

None of it was enough to reunite me with Callum though. He’d left home at twenty after having a huge argument with his father. I think it was something to do with his career choice. Callum had always wanted to be a male nurse whereas his father was determined that his only son would follow him into the police force. Callum had said something about wanting to repair the class divisions in the country, not restore them and they decided that night to part their ways. I never saw nor snogged Callum ever again after that.

I still see Trixie from time to time though – she works at the council with my Mum.



Cherry
V



I fucking hated cherry drops when I was little. I still do. I remember one day walking hand in hand with Callum to our local sweet shop. He asked me if I wanted him to buy me some cherry drops. I told him to fuck off. Playfully. He laughed. It wasn’t just because of my name, and those simpering idiotic adults who offered them with an ironic smile just because my parents had happened to call me that. Twats. No, it was the taste – that bittersweet saccharine taste that stuck around your mouth and resembled anything but real cherries. I actually liked real cherries. They had an awesome power. I loved the way the red sticky flesh, like globules of sweet blood got stuck between your teeth. I fully appreciated their potency at the age of three when I ate a whole bowl of them and then proceeded to throw up on my Mum’s favourite Persian rug for an entire evening. Or so my Mum says.

There were other sweets in the shop of course. I remember the full gamut. Sherbet lemons, pear drops (much better than cherry), those pockets of fizzy orange and cherry dipping sherbet, with an edible twizzler. Although we just used our fingers mostly. Strawberry shoelaces were another treat that routinely made me throw up, such was their sheer sugar content. The mix-ups we used to buy with our spare pocket money consisted of flying saucers, love hearts, white chocolate mice, edible pink shrimps (what were those things?) liquorice fountains, pink and blue liquorice jelly sweets, black jacks, fruit salads, mojos, jelly gummy bears. Once I bought forty of them for just twenty pence, just because I knew it was the cheapest thing in the shop.

Callum never ate any of them, he never wanted to. I used to offer him as we walked back to my house. He just talked, or walked alongside me in silence as I munched my way through the bag. I never realised I would miss something like that so much.





Cherry
VI



I always got horny in summer afternoons. I think it was something to do with the heat and wanting to take your clothes up. As the heat haze smashes into the windows, I place my hand against the glass and smile. I can feel my burning secret consume me. It’s a clandestine instinct, rising up inside me. I love those little summer dresses that cling to your body. They accentuate my thinness, make me feel cool. Little breezes rushing along my thighs, tickling my fire. It was too much when she arrived. It precipitated a flame of an altogether different order. I couldn’t control my body any longer. I had to rush off to the girls fifth corridor to let it out. It poured like a torrent of loving tension unleashed. It provided that feeling. That feeling no-one can put into words. Of consuming, of being consumed. Of being one with eternal annihilation.





Cherry
VII





Let me out. Let me run away. I cannot take it anymore. Life is too much. It is a glass of poison. It is a bush of thorns. It is endless dark well from which there is no escape.

How do they manage to cope? How does Liam cope with his loss? His best friend. Dead. No-one to replace him. I can’t imagine how he feels. I just wanted to walk right up to him and hug him when he spoke in church. Love is too much. It’s too strong an emotion for humans. How would I feel if it was Sandi? I love her. I love her so much it hurts. I want to squeeze her, kiss her, caress her, love her in the most intimate way possible.





Sandi
I



The swish and swoosh of salt in the sea air rising and falling through the open train window like a decadent wave tickling its favourite rock on the opposite coast to home and here is my first hen count her with indie pen dance I might come to live here I might belive here I might beehive here I might be free here one day who knows what the future holds I’mtired I think I might rest my head against the glass which of course comes from compressed sand that’s just like me or my name at least names are something parents give us so we can be labelled told what to do identified by society but very rarely for good at least they gave me quite a poetic name wish I was nearly asleep now I’m tired and that boy opposite me I think he’s going to the open day as well but I don’t want to talk to him there’s something about him makes me slightly uneasy I’ll just switch my ipod to him again always calms me down his hippyish voice undulating through my auditory canals vibrating the tiny little bones and drums in my ear with glee oh is that one of the lakes Cherry was telling me about when she used to come here as a child with her Mum and Dad and Razzy it looks a pretty nice place for a cuddle and a smoke I no doubt oh no he’s looking at me again he thinks I can’t see him underneath those big black sunglasses but I can see the roll of his irises like big waves building I hope he doesn’t climax like the great North Sea that is my home oh I could really do with a ciggy now how long till we get there just under an hour oh we’re coming into a station now oh it’s Kendal wish I could stop out and get some mintcake although bad for your teeth I know my dentist is going to kill me when he finds out I haven’t given up smoking oh he can wait until next month this looks like a nice little station full of quaint Victorian features oh that reminds me they do a Victorian special course that would be good give me a chance to study Dickens and Eliot and the Brontes and oh that would be wonderful reading and studying another one of those beautifully written novels from the heart of a Yorkshire eloquent beat every word every sentence flowing as perfectly as a smooth crisp dress and making me feel oh making me feel like they had written it just for me oh we’re moving again now gathering speed um I love it when it goes fast Cherry knows that now hee hee oh no another person is coming to sit next to me another boy wearing sunglasses why can’t they all just fuck off shit they’re all here for the open day wish Cherry was here if only to take the seat shit he’s sat next to me and looking at me like he wants to start a conversation how do I let him know that I’d rather barf up my





Sandi
II



God I searched and searched for the red lipstick you know the one with crystals that pop when you pucker up but Boots only had the virtuous mauve cream that I wear every now and then when I’m feeling down although no-one really recognizes it as a signal apart from Mum who sees it but doesn’t quite understand it yet yeah and Superdrug only had the Dior range that I find gets too crusty after an hour or two it makes my lips go all crackly I mean I know some boys like that tainted corrupted look but I like my lips to feel conditioned tender soft to touch an overwhelming experience of subtlety and suppleness two pillows on which my warm breath can rest ready for each imprint and seal God I could do with a cigarette right now I can’t believe that churl took my last one no-one loves tobacco as much as me in our house I know it’s a bad habit but it’s one I can’t seem to break well that and Cherry God she looked so fuckable today in that little toffee dress I could have taken her there and then in the supermarket in among the peaches and melons she’s irresistible a walking ball of desire and I can feel her becoming ready ready ready for me when we do it it’s gonna feel so natural and then there’s tomorrow at the festival I wonder if anyone will notice if we both cop a feel while they’re all distracted by the sounds coming from over there oh know I’ve just remembered I never finished that essay fuck I don’t think Pry’s going to let me off it this time fucking Mercutio why can’t he do his business and then bugger off scene like Autolycus pursued by the lion or bear or whatever oh well I suppose there are worse plays to be reading it’s good preparation for university I got Sussex through the other day and while I like the appeal of Brighton I’m worried it’s just gonna be full of people who want to spend their whole day at the beach or those who have gone deliberately to be alternative in an effort to mask a lack of academic credentials God I can be such a bitch sometimes it’s also so far from home I think I’d miss it too much not that I want somewhere particularly close by still waiting for Birmingham Manchester York Southampton Exeter oh and what was that other one Lancaster I think and Hull they can keep Oxbridge don’t want to be taught in a load of old buildings crumbling all round me with mould up the walls and noses in the air plus I never went for big hair and stripy jumper tights oh when will this hair get dry honestly the men don’t understand what we women have to go through I hate the frizz love it when it’s straight and neat and smart and my protruding cigarette sticks like a refreshing interruption in my self-crafted sleekness is that snow over there I think I’ll go and watch it drop tiny flakes like gifts from God





Sandi
III



Oh my God oh my God oh my God that was fucking sensational oh my God if I could just taste that again just once just for me she is cool super sexy sweet delicious delectable luscious yummy awesomesauce oh I could just eat her out again my when she pressed her tongue there it made my insides runny and I wanted to scream yes yes yes I want you love you fuck you all night long all day long from here until the end of perspicuity articulacy fluidity lucidity those little whispers in my ear as she pounded me deeper she maybe small but she sure knows what to do with her little body twisting and writhing a spinning wheel you never know where she’ll pop next and when she wrapped her oh my God around my princely princess it felt just like heaven growing sweeter and nibbling neater in ecstasy euphoria elation rapturous waves rolling through my body from tingling toes up my feet and my oversized thighs like thunder through my squirming belly round my ribs hurling my heart spreading my boobs like pistols and punching them up like bullets from my arms in my head letting my mind spin as fast as she lapped and lilted like seasalt singing oh that’s the best I ever had she permeated and permitted her hair to sail softly on my cheeks brush my eyes as she placed palms on my breastplate and now she sleeps now she sleeps softly by my side cradled by my pale arm and bleached locks swimming in a sea of dreams unfettered by intruding sight stomping sound or smelly odour and I am awake thinking is it possible to love this much and want to do it all over again oh my God please let me





Cherry
VIII



I am finding this very hard, I have to admit. The words flow sometimes but then they stop and break. Like brittle treacle toffee needing more moisture before they can bend, stretch and become useful again. I am like that. Perpetually wandering in and out of being useful. Death is like a shadow. Always here, haunting me. I am wondering if it is right to make it a friend. I wanted to be alone. I didn’t want anyone else around. Yet now I’ve got it I feel lonely again. I just want that feeling, that driving, thrilling feeling that carries on its speed the rushing realisation that you are alive. That is what life is. Those moments when you fleetingly realise the power you have. That one day and eternally after you will no longer have any power at all. But these moments are few and far between these days. I wish one would return now, to remind me, to refresh me and to revitalise me. I need love like any human being. Perhaps one day it will be bottled so it can never desert us, leave us in ruins and imprison us with fear.





Sandi
IV





Smashing fucking crushing that crumble into infinitesimal pieces until the tiny crumbs dribbles into melting rich purple plum like her breaking fist into my joy when she takes the spoon in her mouth all I think is how I want to feed and consume and feed her some more and drink her until we both spent become and fill up yet she sits there smiling filthily with plum crumble staining her cheek tempting me even further with words the words she whispered to me while she dreamt a silent alarm like fragmented pieces of some elegant mosaic not quite making sense but still conjuring a picture of some kind of love I know the way Mom and Dad feel about me is love and the way her Mom and her Dad feel about her is love yet we are two separate children they don’t care what I become as long as I become happy but her happiness depends upon what she becomes as if a natural unquestioned consequence it must come second she worried when she told me about her Mom and I wondered if one day she fears that she may end up the same I just told her to keep the fire alive just keep the fire alive Cherry and you’ll be who you are meant to be don’t worry about it don’t force life is not something you can control it’s something that happens when you’re looking in the other direction she looked serious for a second and grunted in response but then later when I put crystal castles on and passed her a potent parma violet she danced round the living room like a grinding dervish and I know Leah and Craig won’t mind if she bumps into some furniture or breaks a vase accidentally and I know it’s a kind of liberation for her staying here because her eyes glow with some long lost flame when she is alone with me and it’s all I need to warm me up warm me and keep me safe forever







Sandi
V


The plan the defiant and secret plan I must now create inside my mind inside our reality it will forever be me and Cherry Cherry and I we will never escape our love but we will escape the world’s fear of it and we will run and run and run until we melt into oblivion or liberation whichever comes first whichever seems the most attractive whichever that is if they are both different things when she cries I can feel her tears falling like shards of ice on my heart why does life have to be so hard so suffocating for two people who all they want to do is love fuck it’s like that first moment when I knew I had this awesomesauce amazeballs power inside me to love and be loved to give and be given to hold and make other people understand this prodigious sensation like what you feel when adrenaline grips and won’t let you go like the beautiful addiction I remember the first time I saw Vonny Jedda the hairs on my arms standing up my neck like feeling he breathed down the back I wanted to move I wanted to rush to the front and there was a mountain of girls to get past my boobs jogging in my black top I wanted Vonny to see them I finally made it for the last song and there he was strutting and strumming away screaming into the microphone like a beautiful crazy person and his dreadlocks bouncing around his face like kindred spirits like falling friends and the penultimate note he leant into the microphone and spat the last line diverting his eyes down at me down at my top which I breathed out deliberately and his eyes connected with my eyes with my soul with all my desires and doubts for the future and he smiled and winked at me I thought from that moment forth I would never find another moment no not another moment to top it but I was wrong like I perpetually am in this life but gladly wrong because I knew then I would never find another man as good as Vonny and if I couldn’t have him I was going to have girls but other girls got intimidated because of sharp black mascara and fire engine lips and my constant smoking contradicting with my generosity suddenly I was a threat when I never meant to be I wanted to be a friend to be more than that but they were all frightened away and I was an outcast like the true outsider everyone feels at one moment in their life like they are but I wasn’t going to compromise who I was for the sake of other people I am who I am so I went to more gigs and became a goth and became an emo and became a sophisticated young lady who could turn on sex appeal with a flick of her skirt or a tap on her fag and I went to lots of parties and there I met her drunk out of her brains because some lad she had grown up with and fucked had run away and she thought she would never see him again and it made her all fucked up and angry and frustrated and then she fell apart drinking vodka shots and fell in the pond wearing her little black dress and I was the one to fish her out dry her down and make her a cup of tea while she thawed out and I knew it was love from that moment on she had such fire such a dancing soul such life within her and I swore that night I would do everything in my power to prevent her feeling that way again and bring her to some kind of liberation within herself and now time has moved on and it seems it is not me who can fix this or maybe I am being asked to fix it by removing myself from her life but I know that would only make her sadder not better more depressed and not recover that joy she felt when we first kissed oh the singular ecstasy I felt the moment my red grease slid over her pink gloss and the pressure the sweet pressure of her mouth on mine felt like submission and admission acceptance and responsibility fire and water earth and air all coming down on me in that second because I knew I had changed her changed her from what she was about to become to what she is now mine mine mine and I feel utter responsibility for every second of pain she’ll feel for the rest of her life because I was her first true love the one you lose yourself in and for the one you make yourself so vulnerable the one you dangle your soul over the precipice for the one you say to yourself its justified giving up everything in your life because your life has just arrived at its ultimate destination and remaining still in this place forever and ever can only ever be bliss heaven euphoria ecstasy and I drove her on as she drove me on like a wild child and her mother pirouetting slowly and effortlessly into bright light that consume and leave you bereft and exhilarated frightened and excited confident and nervous a bag of emotions that don’t have names you just know that they’re a potent cocktail of hormones making you more confused and more clear than you can possibly ever feel again in your entire life and then that was it we kept our love secret at first glowing bright under our bush but not something that could be kept secret eternally the light must be let into the light and the rays dazzled everybody else and drew them to us and made us the centrepiece of their fucking desire but we didn’t care about anything like that only to be in each other’s arms every fucking night and now they want to take that away for a whole host of reasons I don’t quite understand like Mercy and Razzy like Jonquil and Norman like Rosalind and Donald but not because of the reasons that should matter the only reason why I can think of continuing to live the only reason that will ever feel like a solid ground and an endless sky to me the reason of Cherry and Sandi like fucking Romeo and Juliet but that will not occur to them because they are blinded by accusation by fear of what they do not know by fear of falling foul of the lines that bind us and offer us security in exchange for the surrender of our souls those bastards want to take us away from ourselves and transform us into Stepford wives living lies doing the honourable thing well fuck the honourable thing I want to live my life it would be different if I thought Cherry didn’t feel the same but by God she does I know she does the way she wakes up in the morning and goes to sleep at night and every fucking thing in between makes me realise she belongs to me like I belong to her and now I must set my mind to the plan the one route out of this eternal mess like an inferno of peoples’ opinions we must be enslaved to I never fully understood the political passion before but now I get it I get it with all my life because the personal is the territory that others now invade I will not have them invade it I will not have them encroach on the innocence we have cultivated like a haven of desire lust love why can’t we just fly into the fucking air like the angels Danny thinks we are oh how that boy is misguided oh if he could only feel with one second the delight I feel when Cherry touches my skin it’s like a intense sweetness the kernel of love the centre of my desire the fund of my hope the damaged source of my heroin my very own heroine cursed and damaged broken but always fighting dark brooding excellent and lamentable sweet sexy little Cherry



Sandi
VI



I remember my first time in Verona I had never been abroad before and everything was strange I wanted to taste see hear touch sample everything that crossed my path nothing was forbidden we stayed in a cute apartment with magnificent views an absolutely gorgeous smell of hyacinths blew delicately from the window garden across the street I used to just sit at the window reading my book or whatever Shakespeare play I had been set and breathing deeply so I could embed that aroma in my soul I’ll never forget the lady who watered those flowers once a day with tender devotion it made me want to grow up and own a garden with a million varieties of plants to make something grow to tend and care for something other than yourself to make it live nothing excited me as much at night we used to wander the narrow streets as a family before settling on a restaurant usually somewhere where the pasta was fresh egg and the wine was vintage my parents Craig and Leah they didn’t restrict me or my sister in any way at all they let us roam free if we decided we wanted something else they’d give us the money and we’d happily go off into the night and find an alternative they were the best parents ever to us both honestly it was my first day of secondary school when I began to get the feelings it wasn’t much at first just a gentle twinge in my arm I ignored for much of the first year the netball teacher used to shout at me when I dropped a goal but I didn’t care



Sandi
VII

She’s not here even though every thought that passes through my troubled mind rests on her the kindness of the dress she bought me the fruit salad she made me the way she held me when we heard the news not fair ever why are people in love plucked asunder at the whims of other people who can never understand never appreciate the depth intensity power profundity of love Cherry came into my life when I thought that boys were the way forward I could sense that Danny was developing feelings for me sweet boy even though I tried to help him with the hypnotherapy and his missing friend I could never quite conjure up enough rampant desire to hold him and fuck him that wasn’t a problem with her with her there was this fire that lit the room I would happily warm myself against her hearth in the cold night than spend a chilling night in some bar with men I don’t want not in the way I want her and now she has been forbidden to see me and I don’t know what I’ve done wrong and now I’m the one left with all these feelings redundant and empty and despairing not knowing if I’ll ever stroke her hair again not knowing if my lips will ever touch hers again and feel that sublime feeling of escape that thundered down my spine and stormed into my lungs her perfumed breath but Danny Danny Danny maybe he could help me now





Cherry
IX



I need to get out. I need some fresh air from this. Razzy, Sandi, Mercy, Mum - it's too much. I know I shouldn't go to meet her, it was just a one off when we met on the open day. These things are better left buried I know. The text was innocent enough - let's meet for a coffee. But I know what's on her mind. It's the same thing that's on my mind. She's only had it once and now she wants it more. Perhaps that will be it after this.

Oh my God there she is! She looks fuck off gorgeous.





Cherry
X



I can't believe it’s come to this. Poor Razzy, my beloved brother. I never thought I'd see him on trial for a repulsive crime. Sitting in a witness stand in a court room. Things are so fucked up. Poor Sandi, her broken face as Mercy screamed out. I've never seen such a confused picture. All I can think is how much I love her. I need to protect that love at all costs. We both do. It is incomprehensible to me we could be plucked asunder by this, by anything. Dee is still hanging about. She doesn't know what she's getting involved in. I wish I could resist her but her tight little thighs are too sweet to be denied. I know she's glamming up for me, wearing lacy little stockings and lining her lips with pink paint. It works every time but it is nothing. Just a way to cope with everything that is going on. A safety valve. Another way to relieve the tension.

It is kind of Danny to offer his place. Mum is unbelievably mad at the moment. Fucking insane woman. If she knew what I was up to at the moment I really believe she would kick me out, cut me off, permanently disown me. But fuck! I need her support through Uni. Sandi is too important. Nothing makes me feel the way I feel when she presses her hand on my stomach, and squeezes me down below. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.





Sandi
VIII



Poor little Cherry she looked so sad today I imagine thoughts traverse her mind the confusion she feels the horror of split between family and love are those two things the same in this instance I would wager not the amount of pressure her mother lets on her the lax attitude her father has the way she was sexualised early they take their toll I hope she copes okay the courtroom scary at times I wished I could hold Mercy’s hand through the hard parts but I'm not allowed on the front bench I have to watch from afar it's funny I thought I could see the first shafts of spring through that dreadful window it can't be far away now I dreamt about spring and Verona last night where I was running through those narrow alleyways and all the time this dark man from my childhood was chasing me and my legs gave way and I couldn't run any more and I opened my mouth to scream for someone to help no sound came out and I was in this vast desert where sat cross-legged watching these Arabs go by on camels while I sucked hot chocolate from a thermos steaming rich chocolate how strange when you're in the desert still I suppose it is only a dream and then the desert became a deep pacific blue and I was a fish in the water swimming and shimmering through golden waves away from something I can't put my finger on what is went on for an eternity I saw all kinds of fish yellow and black striped fish that were as tall as they were long little clownfish that looked like Nemo and those scary stone-fish that just sit there and look at you waiting to poison you and then I was back on Amberleigh beach lying in a circle of stones as the sun beat down but then night overtook day without warning and the stones erupted into flames and I woke up in a horrible sweat I've never had a dream like that before ever









































THE END
of
SandiCherry

















































COMING SOON

Sandi Burrill
and the
Beach of Flames
By Dominic Jericho









73



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