Part 3-Downhill One Night Loser

Midnight has always been his nightmare’s bestfriend. It could be the heat.. but sleep suddenly abandoned him these days. The scenes long forgotten are more apparent. Few pops of what used to be his refuge from insanity expires of grandeur hopes. His demon starts talking again, Maybe you need to party with a higher dosage. He finally got up, inspecting his obsession towards keeping things in order. Mirror occupies half of the bathroom wall. There’s no escaping nudity, which suits sexy time on hard days and when vanity kills his unspeakable insecurities. Shit!these bags fuckinkeep me old.. 

He looked at the paint-my-shitface creams and knick knacks lined up

on the platform, in placed below the mirror level. He’s not in the mood to act fancy today.

Throb pulses his head..and then a hammer bash in between.. Ugghh!fuckin head’s killing me..Need my meds.. He walked into the kitchen to check what’s in the fridge, Ahhhh, my sweet cherry.. One bottle came out, crisped and opened in this foreign summer. The pop sound just gives him a comforting feeling. Barely an hour later, the empty bottles populated the living room, mocking and watching how

he turns into a class clown..that being against his will when he wished to be invisible.

His phone started blinking..the only time he could keep women on mute. Depression starts to hit him bad again. He finally mustered the balls to check out the inbox, hoping to see her name..Damn! that girl just doesn’t know how to chase. He started weaving the coolest lines to send..Such a waste..maybe she’s plunging that lazy ass in bed..or worse, in bed with some douchebag.. Bitch! Thinking about it spurs a rage.. and then the craving.. Reluctant hands deleted any hint of desperation he might not be aware of. Every second, the urge becomes sadistically a hunger that needs to be fed. Lei will make a good slave.. he thought for a second before the eager hands button the lifeline keys. But then kicking out would be such a pain..full of fuckin‘ drama..

He dialed a number.. one of those with anonymously weird made-up names in the phone book. Both agreed on the schedule, with same rate as last time. The girl came in after an hour, eats his boredom that lasted unusually more than an hour. The anxiety creeping in stole a few bucks than expected. Lunatic chores, he thought, are getting more expensive. She left after getting dressed, with a keepsake to amuse in case another boring night comes in.

Settled and exhausted, the indomitable blinking continues, Bitch won’t stop.. He eventually took the call since he might need it. “Lei, my apartment’s a mess.. I need you..” It was enough to keep the woman hurrying back to his dungeon. He passed out for a second..

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Abby Mabb

Snarly female. Occasional book reviewer.

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