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GENERAL FICTION

Behind

Venetian B

linds

Little Wit & Creative Goth

Behind

Venetian

Blinds

Little Wit & Creative Goth

Copyright © 2013 Little Wit & Creative Goth.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted by any means—whether auditory, graphic, mechanical, or

electronic—without written permission of both publisher and author, except in the case of brief excerpts used in critical articles and reviews. Unauthorized reproduction of any part of this work is illegal and is punishable by law.

All characters in this book are purely fictional. Any resemblance to

actual persons, living or dead, or events is entirely coincidental.

ISBN: 978-0-9923254-0-4(sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4834-0380-9 (e)

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Lulu Publishing Services rev. date: 10/24/2013

We would like to give thanks to Gary Anderson for his unique

artwork and talent that inspired his creation of the book cover design

and illustration.

Contents

1. The Emperor ...........................................................................1

2. The World-Inverted ................................................................5

3. The Queen of Cups ...............................................................11

4. The King of Coins-Inverted ..................................................24

5. Seven of Swords ....................................................................33

6. Four of Coins ........................................................................40

7. Strength ................................................................................46

8. Nine of Cups ........................................................................57

9. Three of Cups .......................................................................62

10. The Hanged Man .................................................................71

11. The Lovers ............................................................................80

12. Death ....................................................................................91

13. The Tower ...........................................................................104

14. Eight of Cups ..................................................................... 111

15. The Moon ........................................................................... 119

16. The Devil ............................................................................ 131

17. Ten of Swords .....................................................................134

18. Six of Cups ......................................................................... 145

19. Judgement ...........................................................................154

20. Nine of Staves ..................................................................... 165

21. The High Priestess .............................................................. 173

22. Two of Swords .................................................................... 179

23. King of Staves-Inverted ...................................................... 189

24. The Fool-Inverted ............................................................... 198

25. Five of Staves ......................................................................203

26. The Hermit-Inverted ..........................................................206

27. The Empress-Inverted ......................................................... 210

28. The Wheel of Fortune ........................................................220

29. The Star ..............................................................................227

Chapter 1

Welcome to the reality behind the il usion of the

venetian blinds. Please, come in and have a look around,

you look like you haven’t been here before.

Little Wit

The warm sensation spreading through her silk pyjamas

forced April awake. “What the . . .” April eyed Gavin

warily through half-opened eyes as he stood defiantly by

the side of the bed, pissing over her as though it were acceptable.

Instinctively she made to move away from the steady stream of urine

that flowed over her, and was met with a hard heavy hand, straight

across her face. Her head bounced off the headboard, and blood fil ed

her throat as she bit down on her lip, momentarily causing her to gag.

“PLEASE GAVIN, I’m sorry . . . please don’t . . .”

Grabbing a handful of her hair by the roots he straddled her,

pinning her arms down with his knees, his other hand gripped

tightly around her neck. Pushing her head back into the mattress,

he directed the flow of urine upward towards her face, saturating her

hair and the bedding beneath her.

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Little Wit & Creative Goth

Unable to move, tears of fear flowed freely as her words came out

in strangled gasps. “Please . . . let me go. Whatever it is, I’m sorry, it doesn’t have to be like this, Gavin. Why are you doing this?”

“You don’t warrant respect, April, you only warrant being trashed.

You deserve everything you get, you unashamed bitch. I despise

everything about you, and your stupid ideas about your stupid job

concerning the plights and needs of your nutcase patients.” Continuing

to hold her steadfast he sank his teeth into her right breast, and she

felt him harden as she screamed in pain. “Keep it up, baby; this is

how I like it.” He laughed a low dirty growl as he taunted her. She let out a sob as he yanked at her hair again, wrapping her tresses around

his wrist. He stalled and studied her a moment; he was aghast that

she allowed him to treat her in this way. She let him get away with

exactly as he liked and never really objected, he just couldn’t help

himself, he got hard at the thought of it. He liked the way she was

beginning to appear androgynous since he had put her on a diet; her

rib cage was jutting out, her voluptuous chest diminishing, and her

waist he could almost encircle with both hands. Pushing her long

blonde urine-matted hair away from her pretty face, which he only

allowed her to wear down behind closed venetian blinds, he looked

at the shiny bruise that was beginning to appear on her cheekbone.

Fleetingly, he felt a pang of guilt, he was normally more careful to

inflict damage on parts of her body not immediately visible to others.

He dismissed his guilt quickly, it wasn’t like he had broken her bones

or anything, nothing that wouldn’t heal or wash away, plus he knew

she wouldn’t talk. It would be more than her life was worth. She

stayed fixed in his grip, as he began to masturbate over her.

“Let’s see if you can actually satisfy me for once.” He threw his

head back as he manipulated himself and the familiar waves began

to accumulate through his abdomen. “Ahh . . . ahh . . . Gonna

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Behind Venetian Blinds

come, April . . . , don’t stop, don’t stop.” Gavin slowed his pumping

groin, deep sighs of sexual satisfaction emanating from his throat

as he ejaculated over her. Satisfied, he pushed her roughly away by

the palm of his hand against her forehead, rolled over and went to

sleep. April forced herself to lie there, covered in his piss and semen, whilst Gavin snored beside her, the cold wet sheets clinging to her

skin and the urine beginning to pool beneath her bottom. Her pubic

hair was full of his cum, the rough curls matted, sticky and bonded

together. She had long since given up trying to fight Gavin off when

he approached with his depraved intentions. The consequences of her

saying ‘no’ only resulted in assaults of increased severity. Gingerly

shifting position, she tried to get comfortable as she winced in pain.

Her head throbbed; her throat was raw, and her upper body covered

in varying shades of bruising. She moved her jaw a little and winced

at the ache in her cheekbone. She would have to look at that as soon

as she was able.

Staring numbly at the venetian blinds of their newly purchased

home, her head wandered towards her three year marriage; it always

did, even if she wasn’t giving it primary consideration, it lay there

festering at the back of her thoughts. She indulged herself, with a

private laugh, that she had hoped that their recent move to London

might have been a turning point for them. She had left behind her

friends and family in Manchester, and the job that she loved in elderly nursing, and accepted her current position nursing acute mental

health patients so that it all fitted in with Gavin’s promotion, area

transfer and an extremely lucrative wage. She had toed the line at

every cost to herself and her own needs, she did, she just did. She

had no idea what she was going to do. Since their marriage three

years ago, he had begun to enforce his physical presence on her at an

increasingly rapid rate. April’s fear of him, coupled with shame, grew

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Little Wit & Creative Goth

at a phenomenal pace. Gavin got her so she couldn’t think straight.

She felt profoundly unsure of herself, and humiliated by physical

agony and disgrace. She tipped her head up slightly toward the clock

that sat on her oak bedside table. Half past four. Gavin would not be

awake until its alarm rang shrilly at half seven, when he would get

ready to go off to his precious job. She closed her eyes, unwilling to

think anymore, and began to run through a list of household chores;

she would start with the vacuuming and then clean the windows.

When he had left for work in the morning, she would strip the

bed, scrub the mattress and turn it to air thoroughly. She liked her

surroundings to have orderliness about them, it distracted from her

reality and helped her feel calm and relaxed when she tidied, dusted

and cleaned. She knew she appeared the epitome of upper middle

class society, she had the mortgage and marriage thing happening at

the age of twenty two, and her life seemed to be steering forward in

the usual, unremarkable, carefully manufactured fashion. Vaguely,

she wondered what people would think if they knew the truth behind

Gavin`s startling baby blue eyes; flitting her eyes over to the venetian blinds, she thought about how they could do with dusting.

4

Chapter 2

Mine is just the same old story, you know the one where we struggle

for meaning and purpose to our lives? And nothing fil s that void

within; it just gets bigger with each passing day. I have no idea

why I am here and I am almost afraid to ask myself, is this it?

Little Wit

For fuck’s sake, Jay, turn the light off, will you, I’m trying to

sleep!” Groaning, Sienna glanced sleepily at the clock. It was

three in the morning. Turning over, she tugged the duvet up

over her head and closed her eyes. He was pissed, again.

“Si . . . . Sienna . . . I’m sick, like.” Jay tripped over her shoes, which she had kicked off carelessly before getting into bed. “Do you have

to leave everything lying at your arse, Si, Jaysus; a bloke can’t even

make it from the living room to the bedroom without encountering

an assault course.” He fell clumsily on top of her, holding his stomach and groaning loudly. “And you don’t give a shit that I’m ill. I might

need a doctor.”

“You’re always sick, Jay, when you mix drink with drugs, which

is, oh, let me see now, virtually every day. How much speed have you

snorted tonight? Oh for God’s sake . . . . get off me.” Kicking him 5

Little Wit & Creative Goth

off herself, she rose to turn the light out. She crawled back into bed, shoving him further over to his own side as she did.

“NAAH! . . . . Think it might have been that pizza earlier.” He

spoke with conviction.

“Oh real y.”

“Some fucking nurse you are.” He groped at her.

“Jesus, Jay, not now, I gotta be in work in a few hours!”

He leaned right over her, squashing her into the mattress. “Why

don’t you just phone and tell ’em you’re sick, like, and get some other eejit to go and do all your nut job activity programs for the day, like.

Because I can think of some nice little activity programme just for

you . . . with no patient involvement what-so fucking-ever . . . but

it’ll do you good, therapeutic like.”

Sienna closed her eyes and pulled the duvet tighter to her body,

further up to her neck. “No Jay, not now, just go to sleep or go

somewhere else.”

“Awwww . . . Si, . . . go on, go on, go on . . . what’s up with you?”

“I’m pregnant.”

He lay still for a moment, staring at her, momentarily sobered,

and then he started laughing. “You’re pulling my pisser; you had me

going there for a moment, Si.” His throat dried up when he was met

with a stony silence, and he suddenly found it difficult to swal ow. He raised his hand and stroked his neck, rolled off her and settled back

to his side of the bed. “What the fuck, Si, you can’t be.” He scratched his head, perplexed. How was he ever going to make something of

his life now Sienna had dropped this bombshell on him? “How did

this one happen, like?”

“I fell off the chair and banged my head, Jay . . . how the fuck

you think it happened!”

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Behind Venetian Blinds

“Well, how soon can you get rid? I mean, you can’t be thinking

of having it, like, I mean there’s just no way. I’m not ready for this

kind of shit; I got my degree and all to finish, like.”

She slowly turned, moving the cover back as she did, looking

at him in disbelief. It was something that had crossed her mind,

without doubt, but it was not the conclusion she had expected Jay to

reach immediately, without careful consideration. “You mean your

philosophy degree? That same degree you been studying for the past

six years since you were eighteen, and you’re still trying to make it

through the first semester of freshman’s year? That the one you’re

talking about, Jay? Huh? The only achievement you’re ever going

to make is into the Guinness book of records for being the longest

standing student ever!”

“Och, Si, don’t be such a bitch.”

Snatching a cigarette from its packet, her hand trembled as

she lit it. “Good old Jay, who just can’t cope with life. Good old

Jay, who reckons that spending all day propping up the bar talking

philosophical bullshit to his mates is going to steer his life in a

different direction from everyone else on this planet. It might help if you made it to class once in a while.”

“You’re the one that’s changed, Si, you’re the one that doesn’t

come out anymore since you started all this nursing bollocks.”

“Well, someone’s gotta earn the money to pay for your drug habit

along with the bills. It’s called growing up, Jay.” She slammed the

lighter back down on the bedside table.

“Now, just hold on a minute . . . There’s no need for that, Si . . .

And did you have to tell me that you’re pregnant tonight, like? The

lads are still next door, Si, how am I meant to go back in there and

pretend everything’s normal, huh?”

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Little Wit & Creative Goth

“Good on ya, Jay. Thanks for your support. I’m sorry this is such

an inconvenience for you . . . Thanks, Jay . . . Thanks a fucking lot.”

She wondered at her feelings of wanting to smack him if he said ‘like’

one more time, and she had found it so endearing in the beginning.

“East Belfast class,” she muttered to herself as she swung her legs

out of bed and yanked the bed cover completely off, ceremoniously

bal ing it up and burying it in the corner of the room before flouncing out and slamming the door behind her.

Sienna lowered the porcelain lid of the toilet and sat on top of it.

She shivered involuntarily in the small confines of the damp-smel ing

bathroom. Their one bedroomed flat was always cold, no matter how

many layers she put on, nor which season they were in. The tiny

radiators did little to take the chill out of the air. Blowing her nose, she opened her toilet bag and unwrapped another pregnancy testing

kit. Every day for the past three weeks Sienna had got up, thrown up,

unwrapped another pregnancy test and tried again, in vain. She had

spent a small fortune and tried several different brands. She had even

urinated in a variety of positions . . . she waited . . . hoping that this would be the one to prove al the others wrong, this would be the one

that would be negative, this would be the one to pull her out of the

shit; nope, no sirreee, not a chance. She knew damn well her behavior

was completely idiotic and she was attempting denial, but she went

ahead anyway, it helped her retain just a little hope. She watched as

the two blue lines came clearly into focus. Sienna Saverese, twenty

two years of age, sensitive to dust mites, pollens, latex, avocado,

animal hair; you name it, she was allergic. And her contraceptive

pill had failed her. It was symptomatic of her existence. Prescription

drugs didn’t suit her system either. She was most definitely pregnant.

She had dreamed of escape for months now, something different, and

something not so humdrum and ordinary.

8

Behind Venetian Blinds

She stared at the venetian blinds and realized how much she

hated the entrapment they represented, suburban dreams and two

point four children. She suddenly hated the accommodation they

inhabited in London’s West End. It seemed suffocating. Her whole

lifestyle was closing in on her, and simultaneously shifting out of

her control. She thought about ringing April, her closest friend, and

then dismissed it quickly. It was late, or early depending on how

you looked at it, and a phone call wasn’t going to change the facts

that confronted her right now. She would catch up with April soon

enough at work. She wanted to run and hide; only this time there

was no cover, so she sat there and, flicking another lighter into life, sucked on a bong Jay had thoughtfully left half-consumed, ledged in

the bath. She felt herself float away, and the pain of her own existence began to subside.

As a young child, Sienna had always found ways to slip away from

reality, more often than not she floated on a cloud and detached herself from the girl below that had long dark, nearly black hair. Sometimes

she felt sorry for the little girl she left behind, like when her mother trapped her in the corner of the kitchen, near the cupboard under

the stairs, and nipped her all over her small body, the tiny pinches

leaving their sting in her soft skin. She could never remember what

made her mother so mad, only that she had made her angry for some

reason, like the time she had fallen and cut her knee and got blood

on her school uniform. As she reached adulthood, she had found

that the quickest way to float away was through recreational drug

use. It worked quickly and it worked a treat. Crossing back into her

bedroom and clambering back into bed, she lay there listening to the

bass of Primal Scream dancing its way through the thin plaster board

which divided the walls, as Jay and his throng partied on next door.

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Little Wit & Creative Goth

Jay stumbled over the myriad bodies that littered the living room

floor and made his way towards the kitchen, fuelled by his need for

another beer. This was not what he had moved to London for; there was no way he was about to succumb to societal constraints and have

the soul sucked out of him by a life of full time work, or any kind of

work for that matter, children and mortgages. He resolutely refused

to get on the treadmill every other human on this planet seemingly

got roped into, and had little choice over. He believed it was going to be different in London; a clean slate, a fresh start, a chance to make

something of himself and break away from his family history that

threatened to define him; a father with a history of mental il ness and a mother whose mantra was that she had been driven to alcoholism

by his dad. Moving from Ireland, Jay had done little but transfer his

drug habit along with his degree course. Not wanting to embrace the

truth, and that so called crummy life he took great pains to avoid,

he cracked open another can. Pumping the stereo up a notch, he

smoked another bong and settled back into the sofa, staring at the

venetian blinds as they took on a life form of their own, rippling and

morphing to the sounds of Primal Scream in his spaced-out, drug-

fuelled reality. It wasn’t long before he had forgotten all about the

conversation that had just taken place, and fell asleep.

10

Chapter 3

Does mental il ness exist? Real y, does it? What if

everyone label ed insane is actual y only operating on

a far higher level of perception than the masses?

Creative Goth

“SHIT!” Sienna fell out of bed; she was already half an

hour late for work.

“Fuck, Si . . . Do you have to make so much noise?” Jay

groaned, as she banged her way through to the living room where he

lay sprawled out on the sofa. She stared at him in disdain.

“Och aye! Sod Sienna. Who gives a shite if she doesn’t get to work

on time? Work is for the bureaucrats and conservative arseholes. I

take it you aren’t going to university today, then?”

Jay ran through the usual excuses of why he couldn’t make it into

university today. He was too tired, too high, too hung over, had food

poisoning.

Sienna duly ignored everything he said and concentrated on

rummaging for her purse and keys, she found what she needed,

grabbed her Ventolin and cigarettes, and ran the two blocks to her

nearest bus stop. Once on the double decker, she wound her way

upstairs, and was grateful to find a seat to herself as she thought about 11

Little Wit & Creative Goth

her conversation with Jay. She wondered whether it had impacted

on him at all last night, probably not. Jay seemed to know onl