Tantrum Tower
Destiny threw
tantrums. Not petulant "I want that now!" tantrums, but full blown,
gale force explosions of rage that sent the family's Staffie terrier running
for cover.
Her
parents had given up trying to calm her down and all the family doctor could
suggest was tranquillisers. He knew that there was nothing wrong with the
14-year-old: she was just bad-tempered when unable to get her way.
For
someone who didn't know her, it was difficult to believe that this apparently
bright, intelligent girl was a capable of behaving like a thwarted honey
badger. Even Destiny never quite understood why she did it. When she was
younger, a child psychiatrist had tried to encourage her to sit down quietly,
clear her mind and control the thoughts that triggered the outbursts. It was
like attempting to smooth icing over waffles; the good intentions just got
clogged up in the holes and never went anywhere. Destiny's parents couldn't see
the harm in giving in to their daughter when she had been five - which hadn't
helped - but now her teenage demands for the newest smartphone and designer
clothes were way beyond their budget.
Then
Destiny met Oriana, a girl the same age yet so, so different. Destiny was
pretentious, frilly chic, and slightly absurd for her young years; Oriana was cool,
honey-skinned and wore faded T-shirts with jeans, and slim enough to make
Destiny consider exercise - or at least the newest diet. To compound this
contrast, Oriana was always calm, never raised her voice and, most importantly,
sensible enough to roam wherever the inclination took her. Destiny's parents
were always worried about what their daughter got up to when out of their sight
and elated to learn that their daughter had acquired such an intelligent
friend, one who would hopefully show her how a teenager should behave. Although
Destiny had not introduced them to this young woman - probably for fear of them
blurting out what their daughter was really like - they were happy to allow the
friends to go to the funfair by themselves one evening. Oriana sounded as though she could cope if
Destiny threw a tantrum on the waltzer or ghost train, though they did feel
guilty that she couldn't have known about their daughter's reputation. At least
her parents were reasonably sure what would happen if anyone paid unwelcome
attention to either of the girls. Destiny would explode in fury, scream until
everyone concerned was arrested, and they were faced with a fine for the
resulting breakages. It was just as well they weren't aware that this funfair
had a hall of mirrors.
It
was the £1 a ride evening and after the experiencing the most terrifying, the
girls needed to regain their sense of balance. It was the only reason Destiny
agreed to go into the hall of mirrors, something she otherwise regarded as
infantile.
Initially
Destiny was gratified to see a reflection removing pounds from her waistline,
only to have the next mirror make it expand like a balloon. Before she could
lose her temper she glimpsed something in the corner of her eye. For a split
second the teenager thought she had seen a demon; a small, fierce grotesque
with spiky hair and petulant grimace. It was so fleeting Destiny was unsure
whether to be scared or angry. If somebody was playing a practical joke, it
wasn't funny. Backing away to where the entrance should have been, she found
herself encircled by a wall of mirrors trapping her like a fly in the facets of
a diamond.
"Oriana!"
Destiny called out in panic.
There
was no response.
Now
there would be those expensive breakages her parents dreaded. Destiny lashed
out at the distorted images, kicking and punching the walls of glass. But every
time her fist or foot made contact, the surfaces of the mirrors dissolved.
Terrified, she watched as the mocking reflections of hideous little creatures
appeared.
Fury
overcame fear.
Destiny's
rage exploded in an ear piercing screech.
The
bubble of mirrors trapping her burst.
The
teenager was still in mid-screech when she realised she was now in a land of
bizarre lollipop bushes and tall, frizzy trees that looked as though they were
sharing her tantrum. Huge, furious insects dive-bombed Destiny's head, angry
dragon flowers snapped at her ankles and spiteful little monsters clawed at her
expensive designer shoes, the ones she had invested four mega-tantrums and a
five day long sulk to make her parents buy for her.
"Pretty,
prissy missy!" squawked one of the obnoxious little devils sprouting
feathers like an electrocuted cockerel. "Come and play, come and
play!"
Destiny
had no intention of playing any game with these terrible aberrations possessing
malicious talons and beaks. Taking several kicks at the ones menacing her
ankles, she ran off towards a crooked tower looming angularly in the distance.
Demented foliage tried to ensnare her with its thorns and large fungi blasted
out clouds of magenta spores as she desperately hurtled down a twisting path
lined by bickering trees. They were arguing about which one of them could
thwack Destiny hardest with its branches. She had no intention of giving them
the chance and ran faster, now wishing she had been wearing trainers like
Oriana instead of the patent leather heels better suited for showing off at
parties.
Destiny
reached the drawbridge of the crooked tower expecting to escape the malevolent
vegetation and creatures blocking her every, panicking step. Surely she would
be safe inside?
She
dashed into its courtyard. The drawbridge was immediately raised and slammed
shut.
Only
then did Destiny realise that this was not sanctuary - it was a trap. Grimacing
faces appeared in the tower's crumbling stone walls and snake-like creatures
slithered up through drain gratings; all of them just as malicious as the
little monsters that had been pursuing her outside.
There
was a door at the top of an irregular spiral staircase. No longer worried about
scuffing her shoes, Destiny dashed up it. As soon as she reached the top
landing the chipped steps below her twisted and crumpled up like badly folded
origami. There was nowhere else to go but through the door. It opened into an
impossible chamber, far too large to have fitted in the tower's uppermost
turret. At the centre of its irregular flagstones was a throne. On it sat a ghostly
figure cocooned in a gown of fine filaments as though trapped in a spider's
web.
She
seemed familiar.
Destiny
was horrified. "Oriana!"
All
the colour had seeped from her friend's golden skin, which was now virtually
transparent.
"What
has happened? What are you doing here?"
Oriana
was unable to move and her lips could barely open. "I have always been
here."
"No!
No! You were with me at the fair!"
"I
have always been with you."
Destiny
was puzzled, then became aware that the vicious little fiends were clustering
about her and listening intently. "What are those creatures?"
"They
are your demons."
Destiny
was predictably outraged. "My demons!?"
"They
are your anger. They emanate from every childish tantrum you ever threw."
Destiny
didn't want to believe it, but knew Oriana was right.
She
burst into tears. "But I don't like them!"
"Then
grow up."
Grow
up? This was something that had never occurred to a teenager who used every
atom of her willpower to appear adult. Only then did Destiny realise that she was
becoming one of those insufferable grown-ups who remain immature all their
lives. There were so many - and most of them just as annoying as she was.
The
thought was terrifying.
"But
I don't know what to do?"
"Just
let me in," Oriana told her. "Allow me to become the part of you that
has always been suffocated by your petulance."
Destiny
knew she was right. The teenager brushed away the tears. As she and Oriana
became one the little demons blinked out of existence and her better half faded
from the cobwebs that had restrained her for so long.
Like
waking from a bad dream, Destiny found herself back at the funfair. Facing her
was the distorted reflection of a girl in pretentious clothes. It looked
ridiculous.
She
laughed.
Destiny
had grown up.