They are all fat pigs with nothing better to do with their lives. There happens to be a bum sitting at the other end of the hallway, and his name is Stan. He is a fragile, middle-aged man with a beard. He loves to lounge around the building, and he always claims to be a war hero. He’s delusional, and he can’t seem to take his eyes off me. I think that he may have consumed too many drinks last night. I wonder how many sluts he had last night.
The hookers come around here all the time. I get to the elevator and wait impatiently.
“Good morning, Alice. I haven’t been outside this morning, so we should take a walk outside for some fresh air. You can buy me breakfast because I’m a little short on cash this morning. We can hold hands and sing. Have I complemented your twins today?”
“I’m sorry, Stan. I’m not here. You're totally hallucinating. I’m a ghost. You do not see me.”
“You’re a funny broad. I know you’re real, and I can smell you from down here. You smell like strawberries and fresh pussy.”
“You’re drunk, Stan. Where are the rest of your friends? Did they leave you? Why don’t you go home, and find a job? You know what a job is, don’t you?”
“Friends are overrated. Why should I get a job? I’ve been retired for a long time. I killed a lot of goons in Nam, and I also killed hundreds of sand niggers in the Middle East. I was the world’s best sniper. I deserve a reward, so show me your hot stuff, Alice. Show me those twins of yours, and let me taste those cherries. I see them sticking out and staring at me. I’m too wasted to get up, so get your ass over here.”
“I don’t even know why I put up with you every morning, Stan. I should call the cops, but I know they won’t do anything. Stan, I just want you to know that you smell like someone shit on you and then threw a bucket of jizz on you.”
“I don’t think that I smell too bad. The ladies tell me that I smell like a hot beast.”
“There is more to life than drinking. That’s all you do all day and all night long. You contribute nothing to society, and you spend all your money on liquor, hookers, and drugs. Go outside and get yourself a cup of black coffee because you seriously need one. Don’t forget to take a shower, use a pile of soap, and brush your teeth as well. I really hope you realize that you’re a total mess. You should consider setting yourself on fire to help burn off the deadly stench. I’m trying to help you, and you don’t even want to listen to me. I don’t know why I bother to try to help you because you have no respect for anyone.”
“Let me have some of that booty. Bring it over here, honey. You’re not going anywhere, Miss Kilborn. The elevators are down again.”
“Are you serious? The building is never maintained. There are too many lazy jerks around here, and I’m going to be late for work. I love our daily conversations, but I have to go.”
“I would carry you, but I have a bad back.”
“No, thanks. I believe you are crazy enough. I wouldn’t want you to touch me. You would have to pay me a large amount of money just to get your hands on this body, Stan.”
“Can I tell you a secret? I wanted to tell you this for a while now. The truth is that, well, I’m in love with you.”
I roll my eyes since Stan is truly pathetic, and I start to walk away from him.
“I will smell you later, Miss Kilborn. I'm always here for you, so you know where to find me. Bring back a bottle of Jack for me. I'll be waiting for you here. Don't you forget about me. I will be waiting, darling.”
I take the stairs, and I take my time to walk all the way down to the main floor, which is a long way down. You can score anything illegal in the building, and the landlord doesn’t even give a shit. He’s running his own bordello in the building. I always see the hookers walk in and out every night. The cops never do anything since they are probably part of the dirty business. As long as everyone gets paid, there is no problem.
I exit the building, and I’m on my way to work. The air outside my building is not even fresh, and there happens to be a bad smell in the air. The bad smell follows me for a few blocks. This is a horrible way to start the day.
I finally reach one of the worst places on earth. I approach the front door to my workplace, and I can already feel the negative vibes. It will be a long day at work today. I open the front door, and so it begins. The filthy old men gawk at me. They probably think about me when they get home and do nasty things to themselves.
My boss is a fat bastard named Hector. He is very short, with a shaved head, and he has a thick black beard. He has earrings in both ears and a menacing tattoo on his right arm. His crappy business must be open for money laundering. I don't know how it stays open for business. I don’t look forward to smelling terrible food and stinky customers. Today will be depressing as always.
I walk over to look at my work schedule, and I have some night shifts this week. I don’t look forward to a long week, yet I start to take food orders from the annoying customers.
I deal with the bullshit from every customer. This week is guaranteed to never end for me.
A couple of days have passed, and I’m finishing off the night shift as Hector approaches me, and he asks to speak to me in private. We walk to his office for some privacy. He tells me that he knows about the cheap tippers, and he wants to help compensate for some of my missing tips. He offers me a lot of money to give him pleasure. He shows me the money, but I tell him that I’m not that type of girl. The offer is very tempting, and we continue to discuss the offer.
Hector happens to be a married man; nevertheless, he is apparently not a happily married man. He obviously doesn't care about his wife. Hector flashes more money in my face. I agree to accept the offer since times are tough, and I seriously need the money. Hector hands me the money, and he commences to speak dirty to me, but I start to have second thoughts about going through with this. Hector hands me more money, and I get down on my knees to begin the dirty deed.
I work my magic on his dirty little pecker. Hector smells like tacos down there, and I can’t wait to go home and barf!
My week is so depressing, and I can only take so much more of this shit. I’m finishing off another one of my night shifts. Hector approaches me, and he seems excited to see me. I know exactly what he wants. He offers me more money, but now he wants me to swallow. I can get used to the offers even if it is a dirty business, but times are tough.
I finish off another one of my night shifts, and the diner is closed for the night. I walk to the back to get my jacket, and I walk in on Hector as he gets his way with one of the bitch servers. I’m not surprised that she is giving her services to Hector, and I don’t care what they do. Hector just looks at me and smiles as they go on with their sordid affair.
The girl gives me a dirty look as if she is intimidated by my presence, and I suppose she doesn’t want me to steal her business. I don’t blame her at all since Hector is offering cash under the table for easy jobs. I need to go home and relax. I’m on my way home, and I can already feel the bad vibes going away as I walk home. It feels great to be done work, and it also feels like a ton of bricks has been pinched off my spine. I finally make it home, grab some goodies to munch on, and I catch a horror movie as I get comfortable on my cozy couch.
I don’t even want to think about work, so I eat, drink, and watch a lot of gore. I love to relax after work, though I also have other ways to help me chill when I’m home. I will sleep on my lovely couch since I’m too comfortable to get up, and I’m not even going to get up to brush my teeth. I can be so dirty sometimes. The movie seems to drag on, my eyes feel heavy, and I’m about to pass out on my couch.
I wake up, and it’s already morning. I feel like shit today. I do my usual morning routine, and I get my ass to work for another crazy day. Hector approaches me, and he must be getting what he wants from different waitresses each night of the week.
That explains why I don’t get as many offers as I want. He offers me a great deal more money, and I sadly take the offer. I can’t seem to turn Hect
or down. Money seems to control everything in the world. I’m sick of working, and I would love to be at home relaxing.
I’m working another night shift, and I put up with more crap. As I finish the night shift, Hector asks me for another favor, and he promises that he’s going to pay me on my next shift. I decide to take the offer, and I begin to work my magic on Hector.
It is the next night, and I approach Hector to ask him about the money that he owes me. He proceeds to tell me that he does not have the money to pay me, and Hector promises that he will pay up the money as soon as he can. He offers to double my pay if I do him another favor. I sadly accept the offer, but I don’t plan for this to go on forever.
Several nights have passed. Hector's tab is larger, and I’m a sucker for letting this go on and on. Hector is a very manipulative asshole. I wonder when he will give me my hard-earned money.
It’s another long night at work, and I’m fed up with Hector’s promises that he can’t keep. I’m very angry as I approach Hector. I argue with Hector, and he refuses to pay his tab, so I tell Hector off, and I tell him that I quit! Hector grabs—me hard by the neck and he throws me out the back exit.
“Screw you and your fat hairy balls!” I shout.
He curses at me in his foreign language and slams the door closed. I feel terrible, and I wish that money grew on trees. I would plant my own money trees if they existed. Hector used me and got away with it. I never want to see Hector again, and I can’t call the cops about this. Guess I'm just a fool, and I want to kill him with a passion.
I will have to get another waitressing job at another crappy place. There is garbage all over the ground, so I quickly get up from the filthy ground, and I walk all the way home in a thunderstorm. I detest getting wet, but the rain seems to wash away Hector’s filth, yet I can still smell Hector’s stench of tacos.
I finally get home, and I feel so dirty, cold, wet and tired. I take my wet clothes off, and I take a long hot bath. I will have to look for another job in the morning. I can rest in the bathtub all night long and have thoughts of a real man caressing me. I close my eyes and try to relax as I caress myself the way a real man should be touching me right now. I imagine a gorgeous man sharing the tub with me, and he is good with his hands. Oh baby, this feels so good. He slowly runs his hands down my body, takes hold of my thighs, and slowly robs them. He slowly rubs my private area with his right hand as he fondles my breasts with his remaining hand. I quiver as I fantasize.
I know what I want, and I know exactly when I want it. I let myself go, and I hope all the pigs in my building can hear me. They can play with themselves.
I cry out as I sustain an explosion—of joy! Pleasuring myself is great, yet it all seems to end in a heartbeat, and I feel so much better as I take deep breaths.
I want to stay in the tub forever, but I get out of the tub, and I dry off my beautiful body with my soft towel. Time seems to fly when you’re having fun. I grab a pop from the fridge, and open the bottle of rum that was given to me on my birthday. I also have coolers in my fridge, which are good to drink, but I’m in the mood for rum. I love mixing the rum with my pop. I grab one of the big fat joints, watch a movie, and relax on my couch. Nothing beats being at home and relaxing. There is no one to tell me what to do, no whiny boyfriend, and I have no barking dog.
I have no nagging mother or father. Most of all, I have no annoying roommate to annoy me. Everything is just the way I like it, though I could use a tub of ice cream right now, and I wish I had some in my freezer. I try to make the most with what I have. This is the life of a girl without a care in the world.
I enjoy having little responsibility. Some people would enjoy having this life of mine. If only I had a better job, loving boyfriend, and a couple of pets. I would have some peace of mind; unfortunately, I don’t have everything that I want out of life.
I’ve been up for a while, and I’ve had too much to drink. I feel awful, and my bottle of rum is almost empty. I can drink a lot for my size considering that I don’t weigh much. Rum is so good and easy to drink with pop. I’m about to pay the price for drinking all that rum. I think I’m going to puke, so I walk to the bathroom and vomit. I feel like I’m choking, and I try to catch my breath. Drinking wasn’t such a great idea after all. I walk back to my couch to light up the big fat joint, and it should help me feel better.
As I continue to watch the movie, I can barely keep my eyes open. I should open the window for some fresh air, but I’m too lazy to get my ass up. The movie ends, and I manage to finish the joint. I slowly make my way to my bed, and I’m exhausted as I try to get comfortable. It’s late, and I’m seriously messed up.
I haven’t felt like this in a long time. Being in bed is where I feel at peace the most. I shut my eyes and trust that I will feel better shortly.
Something disturbing—wakes me up, and it’s not the severe thunderstorm that erupts. I’m so hungover this morning. I wonder what all the excruciating noise is about as I roll out of my bed. I fall on the floor since I’m too messed up to stand up. The noise outside is too hectic to ignore. I get on my knees, and I slowly stand up. I can barely keep my eyes open anymore. My head is spinning so badly now. Oh shit, I’m about to puke! I stagger to the bathroom, let it totally out, and I splash cold water on my face because I feel like shit. I walk to the bedroom window to watch what is going on outside, and I hear the outcries of people along the streets.
I look out my bedroom window, and I know that something horrible is happening. I take deep breaths as I watch people riot all over the streets.
I’m too hungover for this, but the chaos catches my attention. I still feel very nauseous from last night. I hold myself up on the wall beside the window as I continue to observe the rage.
I watch people killing—other people! I put my hand on my mouth, and I try not to puke. People are shooting each other as I watch a man smash—another man in the face with a baseball bat! I’m actually really surprised that I didn’t shit myself. I take deep breaths as I try to calm down, but there is a lot of blood everywhere. I watch a woman shoot three men who rush towards her, and I want to warn her to move out of the way because a kid with a shovel marches towards her, but I don’t want to be the center of attention. The kid quickly reaches the woman from behind, and the kid strikes the side of the woman’s face with a shovel. That’s got to hurt like a bitch. The kid continues to bash the woman’s face as I puke in my mouth. I cough out and spit on the floor. I manage to catch my breath, and I think that I might be hallucinating.
I close my eyes and take five deep breaths. If I close my eyes long enough, this might all go away. As I slowly open my eyes, I proceed to see that the slaughter continues as a dog eats someone’s dead body, and a man rips out a woman’s intestines! This totally reminds me of Chinese food.
I go down on my knees, and I start to vomit on the floor. The smell is not very appetizing for most people. I take hold of a shirt that is on the floor as I cough out, and I wipe my mouth as I slowly come back up. My legs are so very weak right now, so I lean on the wall, and I continue to view the chaos.
A little girl eats—a police officer’s face off! I attempt to quiet myself down as I breathe in and exhale. This is a shitty thing to wake up to during a hangover. I now believe that I’ve chosen the wrong night to get smashed. An evil occurrence is taking place before my eyes. My eyes must be playing tricks on me. Things might change when I’m sober. I believe that a lot of crazy people must have run away from a mental hospital.
I don’t know if anyone I know is out there since it’s hard to make out the bloody faces of people from my high-rise apartment window. There must be another explanation for all this. I continue to watch the massacre as people run for their lives. This mess must be the work of cannibals. They picked today of all days to start chaos. Times are tough these days. The cannibals probably decided to come out of the closet. The slaughter continues, and I wonder if this is happening all over the world. This is devastating, but I have a sudde
n feeling of relief. I snicker as I continue to watch the massacre.
I’m not certain why I’m responding this way. I totally had way too much to drink last night. I never knew how I would respond to something as chaotic as this. I appear to enjoy observing other people suffer as the city chaos rages on. Chaos is exactly what I need in my lifetime. I can use some excitement in my life. All this cruel thinking is selfish since I recognize there are a flock of destitute people out there.
I believe that my family and friends are in a safe place. I should attempt to call my father, but I feel dazed. I try to walk without falling as I search for my phone. I grab my phone to try to call my father, but there is no service. It’s no wonder why I didn’t hear my phone ring. I’m sure that at least someone has tried to reach me in all this madness.
It feels like I’m in a horror movie, and I’m the star of the movie. I enjoy the moment while it lasts. People in my building are screaming, and the noise outside my apartment door is disturbing. I can seriously use another drink, so I stagger to the kitchen. I grab a cooler from the fridge, and I start to chug the cooler. I continue to watch the action unfold while I drink. It’s a good thing that I’m in my apartment right now, or I would certainly be a dead girl. I’m not sure how safe I am in my apartment, so I will have to wait until things calm down before I can open my door.
I hear shots fired, and other apartments are being broken into. I continue to calm myself down with deep breaths.
I can hear the cries of men, women, and children. I can hear dogs barking and being put down. I stand in front of my apartment door, and I’m a little anxious. I trust that all the noise will soon fade.
My apartment better not get broken into because I don’t want to suffer at the hands of some cannibal. I could always kill myself since committing suicide is a great idea right now. I don’t want to get eaten alive. I don’t want to die that way. The thought of being eaten alive scares me, and I refuse to be taken away like that.
Protecting Norman (Book 1) Page 2
