Debris Stevenson – SST8 Headline First Draft

10 Jan

Hello All!

So this is my first first draft that I was working on at Arvon – I am actually working on another draft as I type but it won’t be ready by tomorrow so I wanted to post this up in the interim. I really want to push the story telling aspect of it so I am looking a lot at character and dramatic structure. Feel free yo give feedback although I think at this stage it might be slightly more helpful for the next draft I am going to put up hopefully in a week or so.

Estimated Length: 5-8minutes

Collaboration? I really want this to just be about story telling so it will just be me – Moth Story Slam style.

Gary

11.38pm, text message:

We’re in Queens A&E, Gary’s come off his bike.

 

What? Peddle or Motor? Surgery or plaster? Dead? No answer.

I’ve been sent outlandish messages like this before,

a slumber party parent said Gary was in hospital –

I had to stay until I was told he’d just snapped

his forearm replicating a Swan-Ton bomb off the sofa.

I had a poster of Jeff Hardy on my wall.

Once, mum called at 3am: Dad’s had a heart-attack.

It was trapped wind. But anyway, it’s 11.52pm

I keep calling – voicemail. Voicemail. Voicemail.

Then somehow I have a voicemail. It’s Mum,

unusually quiet for an Italian – We’re at the hospital,

Gary’s back from Japan, won his battle with the bank,

but he’s had an accident.

What?

Peddle or Motor?

Surgery or plaster?

Dead?

No answers.

Gary is 4 years older than me. Got 100% in his 11+

(I wasn’t allowed to take my 11+ Mum thought it would upset me.)

Everything Gary told me, I told my friends as fact:

there was definitely a famous “World of Cheese” museum

in the south of France, slugs live in your sock draw

and I am not dyslexic – Mum’s a hypochondriac!

All my friends fancied him, Rebecca said,

he looks like Brad Pitt in Fight Club!

Nicola attacked his saliva at a Sixth-Form party.

But anyway, when I get there you can’t tell blood from spit.

Dad said it’s fine,

he’s just a bit scratched up. Have you got work tomorrow?

It looked like his gums had exploded. He looked at me –

Yo. Gake a kiktcha. I took out my phone and zoomed in.

Do you want to see?

He shook his head.

The nurse water-gunned his face with ice-cold saline

and Gary seemed to find it hilarious,

whipping his head from side to side,

globs of blood slashing in the opposing directions.

I was starting to find it hilarious too,

his lips swollen solid, as she sprays at him

I begun to see the amount of road

welded into his upper lip and split mouth.

At least 2 teeth missing, another 2 would have to go,

remnant enamel lodged in skin and blood clogging black.

I was so scared.

Dad, again, So, do you have work tomorrow?

What happened? I asked.

Apparently police turned up

at the front door with this note –

 

Gary was found at the side of the road unconscious. Came off peddle bike, heavily concussed (thinks he’s in Japan).”

 

He’d come around by the time Mum got there.

Apparently he kept asking if he wasn ‘t a genius anymore?

Said the fucking bank tried to steal everything but he won,

he fucking won. Mum said, he must have been concussed

he never swears, she’s wrong.

Once, Gary didn’t speak to her for 6 months as punishment,

until she started sleeping in the car and threatened to divorce

Dad, who was still asking about work tomorrow.

And who apparently, have refused to turn on the central

heating in the car on the way to the Hospital

because Gary’s shivers were in the minority.

Gary found that piece of the story hilarious too

as the nurse continued to spray his face.

We continued laughing and he wrapped his palm

around our Mum’s, she looked so happy –

I’d never seen that before.

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One Response to “Debris Stevenson – SST8 Headline First Draft”

  1. MouthyPoets January 22, 2015 at 6:09 pm #

    Hey Debs,

    I love this poem/story. You kind of have a talent for making horrific stories sound funny – never know whether I should actually be laughing.

    This is very you, very frantic and busy. I think some of this works when talking about the accident as it matches the panic you felt at the time.

    I think some other bits could use less words though, like here:
    Everything Gary told me, I told my friends as fact:

    there was definitely a famous “World of Cheese” museum

    in the south of France, slugs live in your sock draw

    and I am not dyslexic – Mum’s a hypochondriac! – this feels really jam packed and I read it in a hurry, but I think the audience will struggle to take in so much information, I think it could just be as simple as taking out some of those several syllabicated words like “definitely” – do you need to say definitely?

    The section where you really see his wounds jars with me, I think it comes too late:
    “I was starting to find it hilarious too,

    his lips swollen solid, as she sprays at him

    I begun to see the amount of road

    welded into his upper lip and split mouth.” – Actually it’s not too far into the poem which could be another example of there being too much information packed in, I’m already filled with words by this point.

    With it being so frantic, I think those tiny important lines like “I was so scared” – that show YOU could get lost if you don’t give them space to breathe which won’t be a problem with the performance of it I’m sure.

    Hayley x

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