Boo Hoo. (Short Story)

It’s me again... crawling... winding... pulsating through your infected mind. You hate me but I fucking love you. 

Go on try to ignore me, see if it works. Remember the last time when the only way to end the conversation was to drag blades across your wrists. Well I’m back and ready for a long cosy chat. You think you’ll win, you’ll never win. I’m the annoying fucking neighbour who pops up to offer advice when you’re mowing the lawn. O... I forgot you don’t have a lawn, nothing to take your mind off me. But then why should you? I’m really interesting. I attack your soul to gain control, you red eyed cunt. 

Come on... offer up some resistance you weak manipulable freak. Seek and you shall find... O boy did you seek long and hard and you found me, aren’t you the lucky one to have found such a loyal fucking companion.You can share your innermost secrets with me and even if you choose not to I can hear them.Nothing is sacred in here, fuck all.Nothing is hidden. Your soul is bare, wide open to my influence. You can run but you can’t fucking hide.

You like that smell... mmmmmm... it’s all for you. I play with your senses like a cat with a Canary. Tossing it in the air, letting it catch its breath then just when Joey thinks its safe, I reclaim my bloody prize, my cuddly toy from the coconut stall.

I see you’re living in the bottle again... suits me, I love the morning after, I’m a master of post alcohol chit chat. When the 4 litres of Cider are tanned what do you do then, reach for the vallies? They might turn the sound down a little but I’m always there in the background, like a depressed housewife suffering from tinnitus, I hum away, reminding you of the past present and fucking future.

When you were little and your whore mother used to burst your head about partying, late nights and choice of women? Well that’s fuck all compared with my special little soliloquies isn’t it? She was a brilliant teacher though; I took her lectures as the basics and added my special blend of fucked upness specially designed to do your fragmented nut in. Nothing helps sooth the deep lacerations me and mummy inflicted, deep pus ridden gashes which will never heal.

The adolescent years... now there was a time, not only was puberty dancing inside you like an E’ed up court jester, I, me, was right there, always ready to lend a hand, too many cooks and all that shite well not in your case me and old pubie well we were like two peas in a fucking pod .

When you discovered drugs, Christ it was a busman’s fucking holiday. Dope, grass, acid and coke, all excellent additions to my itinerary but not a patch on my personal all time favourite, speed. It was like throwing petrol onto an already blazing furnace. Watching you coming down after a Saturday night all I had to do was throw in a couple of suggestions and that was me for the rest of the day, absolutely fuck all to do. Mr Amphetamine was a workaholic, a master of his art, sickness, lethargy and impotence all very nice but his real forte was paranoia, he was the grandmaster of that particular satanic rite. Wow was he a professional, chatting away telling you how fucked up your life was and how the only means of escape was to score another gram. Even I felt a little sorry for you sometimes. The blackest of thoughts racing through your tiny mind and boy there were some really dark ones. But of course you got a little wise to Mr Speed and sought out rehab, I had to come out of early retirement. So here I am back in the swing of things screaming in your FUCKING ear... Well let’s see... what can we chat about this evening?

I see you’ve decided to take the pistol out again, sitting toying with it, playing with it, caressing it, you don’t have the fucking bottle, you were always a little coward, no fucking spine, no fucking guts. Yes that’s right point it at your pulsating temple just as you have done a million times in the past, shaking, crying cowering in the corner then you’ll change your mind,  like you always do... then wrap it up in an oil stained rag and put it back in the drawer until next time. Still playing with it eh, well go on then; pull the trigger... pull... pull... pull...