Once Upon A Time. A simple phrase that starts an introduction to
a story is only began in fairytales. This story however is so
much more. This tale for which I write, is not ordinary, nor
extraordinary. It's…to put it as simplistically as I can, fucked
up. Yes, that's right, it's as fucked up as a troll doll on
crystal meth. If that is to give you any indication at all, this
is not for children, but there are children IN the story, though
I would advise against reading this to your 3 or 4 year old
little sister or brother, as mom and dad may not have an
explanation why sleeping beauty is popping sleeping medication
like candy, while prince Phillip is supplying her said
medication, whilst sneaking out in the dead of night and bedding
enough women to make even Hugh Hefner proud. With that in mind,
let's begin our descent into madness, going where no fairytale
has really gone before. Stripping away the mask of Disney, and
facing the monster within, wondering what will happen next and at
the same time, questioning of the author who is writing said
story of the use of recreational drugs. Sorry readers, you don't
get these awesome ideas from mind altering-actually I may stop
there as incriminating myself is not part of this fable. I will
however begin this story with the way all these overhyped
expositions start -
Once Upon A Time, there lived a loving but poor family in the
slums of the worst neighborhood in New York City. They were
hardly ever able to make ends meet, but they tried their best,
and that was all that really mattered. Though with the rough
times of our economy, love alone isn't enough to pay the bills,
and hugging your landlord abruptly is considered assault. So
when the going gets tough, the only thing you can do is to
adapt to the situation you're in. For the Halloran family, it
was just another morning like every other - with the exception
of one small teeny, tiny detail. The first of the month - rent
"Yo! Where's my fucken money!? You are thirty days overdue! I
give you till end of today to get my money or I lock and throw
you out! Capiche? Are you even listening to me? I want money or
bye bye. That's only warning I give you!" The landlord screamed
through the crusted out door, pounding it for good measure to
make his point clear. The noise vibrated clearly through the
small apartment, which in turn, awoke Emory Taylor Halloran
from an unpleasant slumber he had managed to succumb to only an
hour before. Of course he couldn't complain, for the most
important thing in his life was sleeping safely on the bed
beside his cousin, while his brother slept soundly in a one
person armchair, with no cushion. He had slept with no pillow
or coverings, making sure his younger brother had been somewhat
comfortable, and their children were peaceful. Besides, the
screams outside his window kept him awake most nights,
sometimes even gunshots could be heard. Those were always the
worst, and left him wondering if the person who screamed was
With another kick and yell, Morgan Ira Halloran jolted uneasily
from the chair, glaring his unfocused eyes to the door,
mentally wishing the asshole outside of it dead, then again -
the dude was a walking heart attack waiting to happen. A man
with enough blubber to make even a whale sweat, was saying
something. Considering they barely had enough to eat and the
fat fucker could consume as he pleased. That always angered
Morgan, because the man lived in greedy mutton excess while
some days they made due without.
With a groan, he answered. A growl underlying his
"We heard you, you stupid prick! Now go and shove another slice
of pizza in that pie hole and blow me! We'll get your damn
money when we have it! You gotta give us thirty days' notice,
otherwise if you lock us out I'll sue your pathetic Italian ass
for illegal eviction. Now fawk off its six in the fawking
morning and we're trying to sleep! Not that you or that Italian
wart downstairs would know what a job or courtesy call means!"
Morgan yelled, trying his best to watch his language as the
kids were both starting to stir.
Emory shook his head and stood up slow, rubbing the exhaustion
from his sad and tired blue eyes, going over to Morgan and
leaning on the broken armrest next to his brother, watching the
door as the man began swearing at them in Italian.
"That's not a very nice thing to say, man. We were asleep, you
woke us up. Now go and be an annoying Wop someplace else."
Morgan continued to antagonize as Emory shook his head,
signaling to his brother that enough had been said, as the kids
had just opened their eyes.
"You want courtesy call? Here's your courtesy call, you
beggars!" Yelled the landlord with his thick Italian New York
For a moment it was silent, before a zipper could be heard,
followed by a steady stream of liquid splashing against the
door, another moment he could be heard spitting, before
storming off with a string of curses following.
The children had sat up by then, watching silently of the
commotion that was ensuing, but by that time there was little
to take interest in. Which for Emory, he was
With a forced smile he clapped his hands together and left his
brother's side, going to sit on the bed next to the two
children, who were only at the tender ages of six and seven. An
impressionable time, but one he sought hard to see them
through. Especially in a world where children grow up fast, and
the world of make believe is gone before they can blink. That's
why it was important to Emory to instil both life and make
believe together, so with gentle hands, he pushed them back
with fragile strength into a laying position, but stayed
sitting where he was, which meant he had a story. Morgan always
seemed to like adding his own little subplots into them, but
they made them funnier at times, especially if his brother was
telling them in the usual platonic way.
"Once Upon A Time, there lived two young boy named Roth and
Ross-"Emory could hear his brother groan slightly, knowing he
didn't really approving of the names. So with a sigh he changed
them, knowing the story he was telling finally had to be
"Lucille, Alexander-this story is very important to me- to
Morgan to actually, and I think it's time that you heard
"What story daddy?" Alexander's small curious voice sounded
before Lucille piped up. "Yeah, what story Uncle
Emory smiled at their enthusiasm.
"The story of love, and sadness. Your dad's story, and mine.
How we fell in love-" Emory paused swiftly, realizing how
awkward it sounded, and how the truly smartass smirk on his
brother's face meant he would be getting hounded for it
"Your dad is trying to say - the story of when we first met
Abigail and Selene, your moms. Not us together because that
would be incest and they frown upon that in New York, though
West Virginia is another st-"
Emory glowered in warning for him to shut up, which Morgan did,
but his smirk didn't disappear.
"What's incest?" Lucille asked, moving slightly to get
comfortable, watching her Uncle Emory squirm. Something that
made Morgan laugh internally at his older brother.
"Something I'll explain to you when you're older, now, back to
the story." Emory said hastily before clearing his throat,
bringing it to a soothing level. "Once Upon A Time, there lived
two boys, no older then you guys. Their names were Dad and
Uncle. Now these two boys were young, rowdy and full of energy.
They got almost everything they wanted, but even toys weren't
enough to satisfy their own curiosity to what life had to
offer, and as they grew older, they realized the one thing they
were missing was love. Their parents were kind, but they didn't
often use words, but rather material things to show their love
to their children, which was cool when they were younger, but
as they grew, it was the one thing that seemed just wasn't
there. On a particular Wednesday afternoon they had just
returned from school, arguing and stumbling about like always -
but as they neared their home, which was about a mile from
their Elementary school, they noticed a police car, followed by
a white unmarked vehicle. Something bad had happened. While
their parents were on their way to the airport to pick up an
old friend, a truck veered off of its lane and into the lane
their parents were in, crushing them against the side of a
concrete railing, smashing it to a can. They died instantly.
The driver had fallen asleep, and-it just happened."
Morgan took a small steady breath, picking up where Emory left
"They were sent to live in a foster home, where all they got
was a smack upside the head and every now and again, a belt to
the back and butt when they misbehaved-or even sometimes when
they didn't. It was a hard time, but the two had each other.
When they were eighteen, they escaped from that hellhole, but
the grass is not always greener on the other side. No, it took
two years sleeping on the streets and begging for a chance
before even finding someone to even hire them for a job, but it
was worth the wait. They did what they had to, to survive."
Morgan smiled at the memory, picturing Abigail's brightly
colored hazel eyes and curvy body, but it was a sad smile, a
reflection on what was but could never be again. Lucille was
the perfect image of her mother with the long blonde hair and
big eyes. It was the one thing from Abigail he could
Emory agree with a wistful smile of his own. Remembering Selene
and how she taught him how to make pizza, how to cook, how to
enjoy life and be happy. It was during that time they started
to fall for each other. but there was to be no happily ever
after. It was two years after they started dating that Selene
began to get sick. Nothing sufficient at first, but as the days
grew on, he noticed she had trouble moving or doing any little
thing by herself, which turned out to be the baby inside her,
he was making her sick, causing the body to turn on itself, and
by the time they realized what was happening - it was too late.
She had died on her way to the hospital, but the baby by a
miracle, had been able to be saved, but that did not stop the
sadness that eradiated from him like a dark cloud, and even
after the baby was put into his arms, he felt nothing but
Struck by grief, Emory went through a period of dejection, but
after a year and the breakup of his brother Morgan and Abigail,
who had slipped from the bed in the middle of the night,
leaving nothing behind but a note and the precious daughter
they had made - it seemed their life couldn't get worse, but it
had. The years following, it was a hard and long haul, but each
brother did what they could to contribute to one another and
worked hard on raising their children together, so neither
would have to be alone. It worked for a time, but now things
were getting desperate, and even they didn't know how long
until their heads went completely under water.
Morgan saw the children's eyes flutter closed again, the story
finally coming to an end - but Emory turned the story into a
happy one, after all, all fairytales need a happy ending. The
happy ending came when both brothers realized how special their
children were, and how despite the nature of things stacking
against them, they had each other - and their friend Eugene.
That was a jaded story in itself, and a past they would rather
forget - but Eugene helped them babysit, and cared for the
children. So in the chaotic world of Halloran, that was already
"We'll wake them in another hour or so, Eugene should be here
by then to take them to school, and I have to get to the
landfill before all the other crazies get there, see if I can
find anything good - perhaps a bit of dumpster diving after."
Emory sprouted thoughtfully as he got up again, stretching his
6'1 lanky frame and heading towards the small closet like
bathroom, coming back with a scrubber and heading towards the
door to clean the piss up before it smelled up the
"Disgusting pig." Morgan said, wrinkling up his nose at the
thought of having to clean up someone's piss. Aside from his
own, he could handle that but that piece of filth? No way in
Nonetheless he counteracted with his brother's
"Yeah, I'm going to go and look around, see who's hiring, or if
there's some interests in the street corners today. I mean I
made good money being a John for a day, enough to pay the rent.
Maybe I could just-I dunno, see." Morgan shrugged as Emory
sighed, coming back inside, looking slightly
"Do what you want M, but if Captain Pierez catches you on a
street corner again, he'll arrest you and I don't have enough
money to bail you out. Neither does Eugene, so please - if you
can, find something else. Besides? When Lucille gets older,
what do you expect her to think of her old man if he goes
selling himself for money? She'll think it's ok and it's not.
You're not a male whore, M, you're better than that."
Morgan mumbled something but agreed with Emory, he said nothing
else as he got dressed and ready for the day. They needed money
and he needed to get some, so what his brother didn't know
wouldn't hurt him. At least that's how he saw it.
With aged brown eyes, and brown hair, like Emory's only a
slight shade lighter, he stood at about 6'0 with a well built,
though boney physique, and strong jawline while his older
brother had a soft, yet feminine structure, matching with his
complexion. He was only twenty-nine years old, and through his
short life, he seemed to have most of the answers, while Morgan
was only twenty-eight, but still lacked the sense and the
why's, or in his case most the time, the why not's.
He smiled at Emory and continued getting ready, walking out the
door before either children awoke, leaving his older brother to
care and get them ready by himself, which wouldn't be hard when
Eugene showed up. At that thought he continued down to the
corner. Morgan wasn't proud of what he was doing, but soon -
all that wouldn't matter. Everything he and Emory have ever
known would change, and there was nothing to be done about it.
In fact it would begin just like this one. Once Upon A Time.
The kind only weird dreams and acid trips are made from.