SPEAK UP!

"Close your eyes and imagine a world full of trolls. Rainbow trolls, yellow trolls even neon blue trolls. A land of make believe is all around you my sweet boy. (Lucy, kisses her son goodnight) Goodnight mum."

SPEAK UP!

"The crash isn't the only thing bothering you is it Deb? (Deb butts out her cigarette) I don't know what your referring too Mrs. Vanderkucsh.

I asked you to call me Dianna, and yes you do. What is it about this young man that has you rattled?
There is something about his charisma. Well now there is a statement Debra, how does one even digest this?
He reminds me of....
He reminds me of....
The young man reminds you, of yourself!

I don't think that's it Dianna!

Ah, but it is! I can see it all over your face and the fact that it scares you into chain smoking. (Deb lights up another)

There is something deeper, deeper that creeps into my nightmare.
What nightmare?
My uncle. (Dianna closes her note book)
He's back is he?
He's coming back, every night after I have group with this kid."

SPEAK UP!

"This is an exert from a story reported to "Rolling Stone Magazine" that your Buddy from Bravo company told Mark Boal!" (Officer Yates speaks down towards a drunken Randy laying in a cell for disorderly conduct)

" The poppy plants were still low to the ground at that time of year. The two soldiers, Cpl. Jeremy Morlock and Pfc. Andrew Holmes, saw a young farmer who was working by himself among the spiky shoots. Off in the distance, a few other soldiers stood sentry. But the farmer was the only Afghan in sight. With no one around to witness, the timing was right. And just like that, they picked him for execution.

He was a smooth-faced kid, about 15 years old. Not much younger than they were: Morlock was 21, Holmes was 19. His name, they would later learn, was Gul Mudin, a common name in Afghanistan. He was wearing a little cap and a Western-style green jacket. He held nothing in his hand that could be interpreted as a weapon, not even a shovel. The expression on his face was welcoming. "He was not a threat," Morlock later confessed.

Morlock and Holmes called to him in Pashto as he walked toward them, ordering him to stop. The boy did as he was told. He stood still.

The soldiers knelt down behind a mud-brick wall. Then Morlock tossed a grenade toward Mudin, using the wall as cover. As the grenade exploded, he and Holmes opened fire, shooting the boy repeatedly at close range with an M4 carbine and a machine gun.

Mudin buckled, went down face first onto the ground. His cap toppled off. A pool of blood congealed by his head." By Mark Boal

"How's that for a tale of pride and disgust! Ya know we should throw you in the pen and open up some charges on your useless ass! You don't represent America, no- Randy you represent what's wrong with society! You're pathetic."

Officer Yates leaves Randy in his cell. The night chill and cold cement outta sober him up by day break.
Randy couldn't get the image out of his memory ever, and for Officer Yates to read it aloud for him ONLY made his mind terrors worse. He couldn't stay sober for this. Booze wasn't going to do the trick for much longer!
It was in Jail where Randy met Bobby Samson!

Debra played in her back yard as a youngster all the time. She had her own doll house out by the pool. Her parents provided nothing but the best for their little girl.
A bit of a Tom boy, she had trucks and sand. She also had dolls and kitchen toys to play house. The neighbourhood kids came by all the time, as her house was the fancier one on the block.

On this Fourth of July the Kearny's hosted a BBQ for all their friends, family and block affiliates. All the fixings were there: roasted hot dogs, burgers, steaks to go with the beer guzzling brutes that represented what real men looked like!
Cordeiro Rock had all the Italian honchos of the Island and the Kearny's were a big deal!
There were firework displays and cakes and give away bags! 1979 at its finest disco era bbq bash! Cocaine was even a deliberate treat set up in the guest bathroom in the outdoor bunk house!

Young Debra Joe, had seen drugs her whole up bringing. This was normalized back when.
As the evening got going the adults got louder and more reckless. The children were designated to the basement of the home while the adults went full throttle and played.

By 7 the fireworks went off and all the children seen them. Treats and soda pop was sent to the quarters downstairs and the television, life's greatest babysitter took over until they all fell asleep.

By 11 the cops had shown
up to tame down the noise. Most of the simple socialites went home, leaving only the band of Merry users behind!

By 3 am the witching hour begins to present its self wisely to those who dare to dream awake. Few people were rumbling around upstairs mixing their drinks with stimulants and making their way into other peoples beds. Truly a responsible way of doing things I must say.

The bedroom door opens into darkness. The slight skimper of light dangles with the power line from outside colliding with the moon. A raggedy Ann doll lay on the floor next to her bed. Her princess dresser has sorted trinkets and sparkly glues with sparkles for her and her friends for makeup.

Debra also has a small collection of tonka's on the floor crashing into Barbie & Ken.
   Her room is a mixture of purple and pink normally. Tonight though, it's just dark black.

"A tender age with soft skin, freckled with dots of wisdom her mother once told me. I had to taste them. I hovered over her body then lay my head next to hers. She smelt like popsicle. I picked her face.  Her night gown was rich, expensive like her frail little life. I had to. I felt the urge.
I blocked out the light from the moon with my back as I made beasts with her little soul. My beautiful niece became a woman that night. Thanks to me!"

Uncle Harry smiled as he thought of that night right before his brother, Debra's dad shot him in the head.
The court room raged in terror as the brutal murder of the pediphile  sent shock waves again across the island!

Debra awoke mid way through the act.
She laid still until uncle Harry soiled her.
He left with kissing her on her forehead.
She picked up Ann and changed her white apron to red as she cleaned the soil.

The Mann Mansion was abuzz this fine summer night. The lights outside carried the walkway and the moon shines brighter then it ever had.
At least in Vessy' eyes anyway!
Independence Day and All of Connors Island was collaborating with sky displays for all to see!
The Mann garden had its share of the families staff out there celebrating the holiday.

Lucy and her Husband had gone out to an event. Aunt Yolanda stayed home to watch her nephew. Since Vessy was an only child, he had privileges unlike other children. He could stay up late he could watch R rated movies. At the age of seven, his all time favorite number- Vessy had it all.
    Dreams! Big dreams at such a tender age.

Of course on this night he was having a lot of fun and even felt like an older boy. Was this what teenagers felt like, were his thoughts.

Yolanda came from across the pond. Her and Lucy' S mother abandoned them as children and as Lucy found her life with the man of her dreams, Yolanda found foster home after foster home.
She didn't find love.
Yolanda found hurt.
She was rooted in pains.
       Twenty six years of age yet carried a mindset of maybe a thirteen year old.
      Yolanda was on the spectrum and though she could present adult-ish. Her brain often acted like a runaway teen. Which she literally was at a certain point.

A fabricated lie, ended up getting her a one way ticket to live with her now rich sibling and enjoy the fruits of their lives.
She was forced to get a job and to begin acting like an adult.
Yolanda secretly despised her sister and jealous took over at times. As a young adult with some birth defects in her brain she often thought of herself in the land of make believe.
Why could Cinderella have the Prince when the paper bag girl - Yolanda could also be a princess!

This Fourth of July Yolanda indulged in the liquor cabinet. This was in the great room of the mansion. Where all the film posters and movies young Vessy admired were.
Vessy loved this entertainment great room. He was going to be a star one day. A movie star. There was a picture of the Rebel on the wall and dang that turned him shy every time he looked at it.
Bon Jovi was all the rage here in the mid eighties. Bed of Roses blared on the sound system. This sound system was so exotic only the rich people had taste enough to endure and afford such luxurious rooms.
Literally the sound didn't escape the room and no one could hear in from outside.

Vessy danced with his aunt as she continued to drink the devils poison. He even puffed on a cigarette like a real rebel without a cause!
     As though he was a rag doll in that instant moment that changed his world - Vessy was catapulted to the carpet of the great room. Aunt Yolanda was dancing but on the carpet as she called it. 

"People have called me a carpet muncher and look it's just you and I.
Yeah it is, but you're hurting me Yolanda.

  ( Yolanda pressed her body on top of young Vessy- two hundred pounds of flabby flesh a top a boy maybe weighing eighty pounds)
  This won't hurt Vessy.
Ok.
Have you ever kissed a girl before?
No.
You wanna kiss a woman?
No thanks. You're hurting me Yolanda."

Yolanda grabs the squirming arms of the young boy and raises them above his head. She holds him in place.
Yolanda begins to press her boobs against his tiny body and she runs her hand down the centre of his torso.
The force of her body prevents Vessy from moving. The awkward facial expression's and her singing to Bon Jovi while touching him echoed through his tiny brain. His vision became blurred with this image.
Her tongue touches his lips. Cigarettes and whisky Breathe he will never forget as he lay on a bed of nails!
  
No one notices from the outside, yet this occurred in front of a massive bay window.

Randy sits at the piano in the lobby of his apartment. An army vet left out by society. He cannot escape the torture and murder he was forced to fulfill in Afghanistan. His bottle of vodka limp in his hand as the sad song trickles along the keys played by one hand.
   Bobby arrives to take Randy on a trip he'll never recover from.......

            SPEAK UP!
The room can't hear through your tears!

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