Donnie: (Proper Noun.) He is seventeen and very normal. He is the most normal human in his normal town.
Well, he likes to think he is.
It is another normal day, the sun is hiding behind the blanket of cloud and like most normal teenagers he is hiding beneath the blanket of his bed.
“Briiing” goes the enthusiastic clock on his mantelpiece which wakes the sleeping Donnie. Unluckily for him, his Mum bought a clock with the smallest sleep button in the world.
So for 5 minutes, Donnie pats the clock like an unenthusiastic drummer.
Reward: 10 minutes of precious dream time in the land of Nod.
“Briiiiing”, rang the increasingly smug clock. Donnie lets out a yawn. His bloodshot eyes (obviously, he was on World of Warcraft until 3 o’clock last night) slowly scraped across his sockets like an un-oiled chain and his cogs from his clockwork mind started to process the positions of the hands on the clock. His bleary eyes focused on the clock dial.
Half past eight in the morning.
(Ah, the English language never fails to amaze me)
He shot out of bed like a scolded bull, and pulled on a baked bean stained t-shirt which displayed a pixelated typeface “Talk Nerdy to me”.
(Obviously, he doesn’t have a girlfriend.)
Having hair like a skewiff hedgehog and eyes like a panda from a horror movie. Donnie stumbled down his stairs and grabbed a half eaten box of rice from the remains of last night’s Chinese takeaway. (Information tells me that Chinese food tastes better the day after)
The sound of the microwave door shutting was like a million atomic bombs exploding in Donnie’s ears.
While scoffing the rice down his gullet, he caught himself in the mirror. His long slender face, big blue eyes and kissable lips looked back on him. It’s a shame that Donnie does not realise how attractive he really is, hints the 5 o’ clock shadow.
A big fluffy ginger cat was twirling around his legs like a maypole.
“Meow!” Mews the cat. “What do you want Jenson?” (It’s obvious what he wants)
His big moonlight eyes glares at Donnie’s eyes. He picks the obese cat to eye level
He throws the cat outside, leaving the bemused cat with only one emotion.
Donnie unwillingly leaves his toasty house; he carefully placed one foot onto the frosty floor, BAM. He collided into a wall of freezing air, ruffled like a rooster; he stumbled across the white crystalline lawn with his clown size 10 feet towards his garage. He retrieves his trusty (too small) rusty bike, and mounted his dependable steed.
All systems ready, breaks, tyres and chain.
30 minutes to get to college; which is four miles away, on a bike that is rustier than the Titanic, how hard can it be?
Donnie kicked off, wind flowing through his golden (Greasy) hair. The cold air fills his lungs, amazingly he’s freshening up. He is awake…He is alive…He is living life to the limit, then he realises he’s on an A road on a squeaky bike.
The perspective of the long mundane road was dull and tedious. Except, apart from that sign at the end of the cycle path.
Roboticly, (Monday wasn’t his good day) Donnie followed the sign, which leads him to a side street. This road is unfamiliar with Donnie. The road become bumpy, the windows of houses are like pumpkin carvings. Crows on playground frames, watching the awkward Donnie cycle past,
“Tough crowd”, Donnie thought. A masquerade of hooded youths tilts their grim reaper like heads at him. “Look straight ahead Donnie, look Straight ahead.” He glues his head dead straight. At the end off the road…
He turns right, the road transforms into soft jade grass, through twisted tree arches, and through scarlet and crimson mushrooms Donnie ponders his lateness.
“Sorry Sir, I got diverted through chav-infested jungle, where all the locals think I’m an alien, and now I’m ploughing through a cloud of mushroo-” Donnie smashed his front tire into an oak root.
Head in the wet grass, mouth full of orange leaves, Donnie pulls himself up and dusts himself down. He thought to himself “Why don’t I dust myself off when I get hurt emotionally?”
(Obviously he is still not over his recent and failed relationship)
Donnie is unscarred, but the bike-
-the bike is obviously in Donnie’s terms “Fucked”.
Leaving the entangled bike behind in its leafy grave, Donnie continued walking the autumn path, muttering insults to everything he sees.
“Oh, Donnie would you like to get lost in the woods, with no bike, no food and no iPod? Oh yes please.”
“Oh Donnie would you like to follow a sign to god knows where? Oh, don’t mind if I do! Stupid nature, I didn’t know we even have a wood, the government really should sort out there bloody diversion schem-.” Donnie looks up…
“No, screw you sign. Oooh! Look at me I’m big and yellow. Your stupid, and so is your Dad!”
Well, he tried to turn left…But a silver pole was in the way.
Now Donnie is seriously confused.
“Fuck this shit, I’m going home.” Donnie turns back the way he came.
Donnie, in fits of anger punches the sign “NO!”
It hurt him more than the sign; Donnie bangs his head on the sign in deep depression, and sobbed pathetically. Where his head lies on the steel frame of the sign, small writing appeared saying:
I could do this all day. à
Crumpled to the ground, Donnie peeked from under his hands the direction of the sign. It leads to a winding path up a lonesome emerald hill, with an ancient willow neatly placed on top off it. Donnie got onto his legs slowly (Looking like a lead singer from an emo rock band, with his black liquorish skinny jeans is obviously hard from him) and slouches towards the melancholy hill.
Ivy grabs at the pilgrims clothes, as he whip pass the evergreen trees. Donnie marches up the incline, the skyline bursts with jade green grass, and the clouds in the sky vanish to the dark cities.
(Well, except from the metaphoric cloud over Donnie’s head.)
Donnie reaches the peaceful willow and collapses against the wooded trunk. Shutting everything around him…
..the calm blackness of nothing sooths his thoughts.
“You too huh?” speaks a low gentle voice.
Donnie eyes snaps open and surveillances the surroundings.
“I’m cracking up” pondered Donnie and shuts his eyes again.
The gentle voice spoke again “Technically, you can not crack up; it is physically impossible for a homo sapien sapien to breach its skin, muscle and internal organs, due to the non existent exterior kinetic energy the mental thought process of paranoia produces”.
Automatically Donnie plays along with the voice. “It’s a metaphor”
The bemuse voice reply back, “What is the definition of metaphor?”
“You’re a dick head; you don’t literally have a dick for a head, but you act that you do.”
“How can you act like a fallace?” Replies the mysterious voice, Donnie opens his eyes furiously “I don’t know, how can talking to yourself can be so annoying!?” BANG. Donnie bangs his head on the willow and walks away. The melancholy voice replies “I do not know why I bother, I try to have a civil convocation with people, but they just think that they have a mental problem, no wonder my branches are droopy”
Donnie walks across the path, with his clock work mind ticking furiously. Looking at the ground, Donnie scuffed his feet across the gravel kicking unfortunate stones out the way of his rampage.
“This is the first time, I miss college.”
-and no time with fucking-
Donnie looks up from the weight of his depression…
“Pain in the ass eh” said a mule voice. Donnie turns round slowly, and slowly lift his gaze from the sign to the voice.
The Donkey talks again, “You see, I been following these bloody signs for 30 toffing years. When I was just a baby foul, my mummy told me to follows the signs to the dentist. I was such a naïve jack when I was young you see, didn’t know the difference between a Equus africanus asinus to a Equus ferus caballus. But when I see a totally spiffing gargantuan creature such as yourself, I could not help but to wonder, forgive me this may sound silly, but what are you?”
Totally perplexed by what is happening in front of his eyes, Donnie stumbles against his words “W-what are you?” Politely the Donkey replies, “My dear young hominoid, I indeed asked you first.” Nervously Donnie points to himself, “I-I’m a human.” The Donkey lets out a goofy smile which shows his crooked chalky teeth “Ahh! a Homo Sapien Sapien, I thought your species died out years ago” examined the Donkey. “I thought Willow was pulling on my tale when he said he saw one, ahh well I lose the bet, blast!” Donnie’s eyes looked into the calm black eyes of the Donkey, “Donkey’s play bets?” The Donkey lets out a squinny of laughter, “Ha-It’s a bad habit I must admit, but it pays for the rounds at the watering hole.”
Gaining confidence (As you do, if you’re in front of an anthropomorphic donkey) Donnie smiles “So you’re a donkey that talks?” The Donkey face cracks his crooked smile, “My dear boy, you do ask some silly questions, yes I can talk, and no you’re not dreami–eeehhh ooorrr eeeeeeehh oooorrr” Donnie immediately pinch his skin “Wake up, it’s just a dream!” He commands himself.
“Only joking!” The Donkey smiles then narrow his eyes “Hmm, you indeed look a bit lost my fellow.” Donnie nods, The Donkey looks behind him “Hmm, better find your way back, there is a lift towards the lake of doom, I could give you a lift there, if you want, but first you have to throw the ring on my tail; inside that volcano over there.” The Donkey points his ear toward a mountainous chimney, Donnie eyes widen, “I’m sorry?” The Donkey lets out his distinctive laughter, “I joke again, I admit I watch too much movies.” Donnie dismisses the thought of the donkey sat down on his sofa, eating some popcorn, (Even though it’s very funny to imagine) and asked, “What about lake doom, did you get that off some cheap fantasy film?” The donkey smiles, “No my brother Doom, owns that lake, has a very booming pedelo business, anyway hop on I take you there.” The Donkey points his head at his back, Donnie jumps on, “I feel like I’m in the Bible!” Donnie yells with excitement, and the Donkey starts to walk, “I never heard of the Bible before” The Donkey admits, Donnie is surprised “You watched Lord of the Rings, but never read the Bible?” The Donkey looks at Donnie, “Problem?” Donnie didn’t argue, riding on a talking donkey is strange enough, talking about famous works of literature would make Donnie mind explode.
After couple of hours of banter about sci-fi films, Donnie and the Donkey, ends up looking at a 10 meter brick wall in a middle of a field. “End of the line my friend” Donnie hops of and thanks the Donkey for the lift. Donnie walks towards the metal lift, “See you Donkey” The Donkey smiles, “Goodbye Donnie, its floor 5 by the way, and add me on Facebook.” Donnie explodes with laughter, “I’m serious” The donkey replies. “Whatever” and Donnie enters the lift.
BEEP!- Donnie pulls out his phone
Facebook- Donkey Ass sent you a message- “Terribly sorry, it was floor six “
Donnie turns around, the lift has disappeared.
ellievsbear
