The whole scenario was surreal. I was fascinated by death and thought I wanted to kill someone. My opportunity was there his neck was in my arm. It would have been so easy to keep squeezing and squeezing until the life was drained from that shitty excuse for a human being. Would anyone care or be bothered if that cunt never stole another breath of our precious air. My mind was all jumble and I was scared. The night was passing by and the sun was coming up. An obnoxious sound came from the alarm clock upstairs in my bedroom angrily I went up and turned it off. What gives that little fucking box the right to be so irritating? Fucking beep beep beep.
"Give me a fucking break!"
I didn't mean to shout the words but I did. Apparently, I was very loud. My neighbour felt the need to bang on my wall and shout the time and day at me.
"It's six in the fucking morning on a Sunday keep it fucking down. If I have to come around there and shut you up I will."
"Fuck you."
I didn't mean to shout back but I wasn't feeling myself. I might have constant thoughts of violence but I have only ever had a few fights. The fights hadn't been bad I won some and lost some but never my fault. This was starting to look like a time when it might be. My alarm clock now silenced along with my neighbour I was feeling calmer. I went to the kitchen and fixed some breakfast. Just as I was adding milk to my serial there was a knock on my door. This was unusual for two reasons. One I never get guests and two it's just after six on a Sunday morning. Looking through the frosted glass of my front door it was possible to make out the shadow of a man mountain. His frame was huge this was not looking good for me. Do I open the door or just pretend im not in? My question was answered for me.
"Open up fuck whit."
Oh, it's my friend from next door. I recognise the eloquent way he speaks I'm smart like that sometimes. This possibly wasn't my best move but I wasn't feeling myself. I put on the voice of an old lady.
"Just a minute dear I'm just getting my keys."
"What's with the voice? hurry up. I want to be asleep."
"Won't be long now."
I then stood behind the door rattling a bunch of keys. I didn't know exactly why I found it so necessary to wind him up? I just couldn't stop myself.
"Nearly got it dear."
I slide the key into the pounding door curious to find out what was going to happen next. Now I had it unlocked but do I swing the door open or nice and easy peeking through a crack? I made up my mind and fling the door open. This was probably a bad idea but you live and learn. The neighbour that I had barely seen before stood there red-faced and just short of a foot taller than me. A first the size of a concrete block hit me straight in the jaw.
It was just coming up to seven when I managed to focus on my watch. At least I had had some sleep but my head was pounding. At least the big galoot had closed the door when he left me laid out on the stairs. It's been a long time since someone has knocked me out but it's not the first time and probably won't be the last. My first port of call is the bathroom I have painkillers in there and I need a pee bad. Opening the bathroom cabinet I saw my reflection in the mirrored door. There were dark brown blood smears on my face from my nose and mouth spread up my cheek and running down my neck. These things can be cleaned up but the swelling and bruising around my jaw and two black eyes are going to be tricky to explain away. It's not likely that people care but it is rude not to ask when you see someone in my state. I pop a couple of pills and have a piss.
Five thirty AM and I'm on my way to work. The traffic is amazing at this time of day. I glance in the rearview mirror and glimpse my reflection in the dull morning light. My face is swollen and one eye is partly closed on top of that I have scratches down my cheek from the shuffle with that scum bag mugger. There is no doubt in my mind that there will be questions about it all. I figured that it would be plausible that I had a few drinks on the weekend and upset my neighbour and this happened. I think the best lies have a little bit of truth that way it's harder to trip yourself up.The reason for setting off for work early this morning was to go and get the number plates off the car I saw the other day that was identical to mine. Going on my way to work gave me a reason for being out at this time of day if the police pulled me over. The other reason was there was a good chance the car would still be here and not many people around. To keep my face hidden I wore a cap with a p
Straight after work, I hit the paper shoo and bought my own copy of the paper. None of the stories interested me apart from the one about the mugging in town. Sat in my car I read the story at least three times before deciding that it said nothing about me. Knowing the truth behind the story filled me with joy. At the same time, I wished to cut the story out and frame it showing everyone what I had done. This was something I could not do and it sent me into a very black and deep depression. Never will I keep any trophies of my actions that have any legal consequences. This might not but I will play things safe. Stupid risks get people caught or killed and I don't want either of those scenarios to play out. Thinking about it further I got out of my car and tossed the newspaper in a public bin. This was not even going to enter my house and end up in my rubbish.Tonight I made a huge detour and went to the dog and cat sanctuary. After a long and boring discussion with a dumb old
"Good morning my horrible little friend. How are you today?"I would have probably shit myself if something other than woof had come out of Oliver's mouth and luckily for me that was all he had to say. He was growing on me like mould slowly and persistently. That was why last night I decided to end him today. First, though I had work to go to. Once he was fed and had his morning walk I went to work.Just before my lunch break, the manager came down from his office. His face was set to smile and he was making a beeline straight for me. It would be fucking hilarious if he fell into one of the looms now while they were running at full tilt. It wouldn't kill him but he would probably lose a finger or two. He doesn't deserve to die for being a cock but a nasty injury would be nice for all of us on the shop floor."Harry the boss wants you up in his office now."" Ok, I will be up in a minute let me just finish this.""He said now."I slammed my scissor
The dog sat there looking out of the living room window as I pulled up after work. Its face was of pure joy and love. Dumb animal if only he knew what was in store for him. Before I had even got my key in the door I could hear him scurrying around behind the door. I walked in and there he was running around in circles yapping with excitement. I bent down and gave his head a rub and a scratch behind the ear. His tea was going to be a can of the most expensive dog food the shelter had in when I got him. I had saved it for this day his final meal. If he could have told me his favourite places to piss and shit when we went for a walk I would have taken him there. He was a good dog he didn't deserve what I was going to do his ex-owners on the other hand. If I knew who they had been they might have cut my first human experience.I threw my coat on and attached the lead to Oliver. The night air was crisp and I could see the vapour from my breath. Oliver padded along at the sid
Oliver was buried in the back garden and had I planted a rose bush on top of him. He was a good boy and it nagged at my mind. He trusted me he believed he had a good place to be. I messed up. What I had done had taken the edge off how people looked for now. I don't know how long it will last but it has been three days since I took his life and inflicting pain on people was creeping back up on me.After getting a warning from my boss my mind was made up to be in charge. Work was going to see a man work his way from the bottom of the food chain to the top. No one is going to get in my way and so help them if they do. It has been three days of hard graft and long hours but already it is being noticed. I have put in forty-eight hours of work in three hours and my area has had a makeover. It has been streamlined to perfection. It used to take eight minutes to inspect one price of cloth from picking it up from the loom to checking it tagging and putting it away. Through moving
I could never have anticipated the backlash I was getting at work. nobody and I mean nobody will talk to me. It was fine with me at first but when im asking simple questions and people would act like I had said nothing meaning I couldn't get the improvements done. it was frustrating, to say the least, but I will fix them I just need to find a way without being a grassing little shit. For now, time was ticking and work needed to be done.I had torn a fingernail out from the root forward and it hurt like a bastard. It wouldn't have happened if someone would help but they wouldn't. It was a silly accident I was pulling down some racking and the shelves had lumps of wood nailed together. It was awkward to lift the timber as they were three by two on. Four by two and they were about three meters long and a meter wide. I was having to climb up the racks lift the wood and drop it down. I was in a rhythm and getting cocky. I was nearly done with the shelves when I got to a tight
It had been about a week since I lost my fingernail but there had been a shift in the way people at work treated me. Some people had a bit more respect for me for the way I took my accident. All I did was get some tissue and sticky tape and wrapped it up then got cracked on. The higher-ups wanted me to work in different areas and to take more responsibly in area. They had seen how the slight changes I had made so far made a big difference which meant more money for them. I was starting to make my point that I was indispensable. If I kept this up for a few more months I was going to be in a good position. Ken was given his marching orders and I can safely say I won't miss him.My dark side was starting to whisper in my ear again. I had a bit of remorse for Oliver at first but it soon passed. The thing was I had seen and felt things like never before and I wanted more. It was becoming clear that I would like to see someone else in a plastic bag. Not something. Someone. Thi
I set off driving down the M62 westbound towards Lancashire. Going to the wrong side of the hill out of Yorkshire. It's all a load of shit in my mind about the Lancashire Yorkshire divide. Yes, a few hundred years ago when the war of the roses was going on and for some time after but not now. Now it's more a north-south divide. Them fucking Southern pricks think that unless it happens in London it doesn't matter. Then again I think that is how it is due to the news. They only report what is happening in the capital and fuck the rest of the UK. Unfortunately, it is splitting the country in two. Really I'm not prejudiced against anyone I hate everyone equally.On my drive, I thought about the moors murders and how I didn't like what they did. I understand that this might sound like pot calling the kettle but they killed kids. They had not been on earth long enough to have upset or hurt anyone or thing to deserve to die. Again I don't like kids don't get me wrong but there