Sitting and watching her, while the car throws me around and into the woman next to me. Man, do I love her essence. The train car joggles, and I topple again, wondering if she would talk to me if I tried to speak to her? No. Not cunts like her, they never speak to me.

 

I can't let her make nut-so boy, sing. He won't say anything, but what if? Wouldn't want to erase her, but I will if I must. Same with the little distraction back at my place. She will be the shiny thing I dangle at Eastdale. Pay attention to the right hand, not the left, Gumshoe Oink.

 

Oh. My. Fuck. Her fragrance is so mesmerizing. The aroma is throwing me off track. Think, Ducas, think. How can I obstruct her way? There is still quite a way until my stop.

 

I'm on my way to the nuthouse to 'check-up' on my favourite boy. Me checking up on him is imperative to my formula. Regular house-calls are made to ensure he is still following all he should be. This little fuck better keep his damn yap sealed, or else. He hasn't uttered a word all these years, he better not turnaround.

 

***

 

This place is so simple to breach at night. The clear night guard always dips out for a smoke around ten at night, after he does resident checks. He keeps a newspaper in the shipping door and goes around to the side, my cue to dash in. Cloaked in an orderly uniform and mask -- so easy to blend in.

 

Most people who are employed here don't work while they're here. They use their time to their advantage, not to the patient's benefit. They rest and chat, neglect and abuse. Five-fingered those keys a long time ago and made copies and put them back. My ability to come into Billy's life anytime I want, is my superpower -- he won't ever forget me.

 

***

 

This must be like an authentic meeting; I can't be perceived as a fool. Nylah goes in, I'm going to talk to her when she comes out. She isn't aware I follow her on 'our' strolls to Milk Plus. Also, while she dresses, and talks to her friends and family on the phone. I go with her to work, too, and tag along on her dates with her beau.

 

"Beautiful?" Like a snake, I approach her -- sliding beside her.

 

"Can I help you?"

 

"I'm Ducas, I'm having a Halloween fete at my barracks at the end of the month. The one across the way, with the lit-up roof terrace? I'm inviting everyone. That billboard -- my soiree. Please tell me you'll come, you can bring anyone you like -- the more, the merrier."

"Umm... I don't make talking to strangers a habit. Nor do I attend the parties of persons who just come up to me on the street. A matter of fact, I don't speak to them either. Pleasant day to you, much luck with your bash." she steps around me.

 

Not so quick little bird, you will be my trophy.

 

"Come on, this isn't a private thing -- don't flatter yourself, I bought a fucking billboard for Christ's sake. Everyone knows about my jam in the 'hood. Saw you around lately but not before, so I figured you're new here." She's wary but shakes my hand, I'm certain, she's going to be my visitor.

 

***

 

Sitting here, I dream about her, my hands tremble -- my heart palpitates. The sheer fact she doesn't know I'm watching, turns me on. So exciting to "meet" her on the local train today. Relaxing in the darkness -- I'm zoned out on the foggy haze of flickering luminescence from the rooftop patio atop my unit. The penthouse is where I live, so the terrace is right above me. I found my someone who valued money over morals -- wasn't too hard.

 

A long, filthy inhale of my cigarette is taken, every drag illuminates my dark living room cave a reddish-orange tinge -- tranquil for the moment. I can admire my reflection in my window every time, I take a longer one now. I peer into my own eyes, what a sexy-ass motherfucker I am. My gaze refocuses once again, back to her -- we're going to be friends, best chums. I take a last one and then crush the butt in the ashtray -- I need to keep her close.

 

My phone animates across the room, on the kitchen table. Stretching, I stand and take a glimpse of the name before I answer. Tits and blonde hair illuminate on the screen before me. Mallory, another wet time, but not much else though.

 

What does she want? Cocaine -- and dick. They all want chowder and the schlong-dong. I veer to yes with my thumb and burst a boner. Would rather fuck her sister though. At least Mystica is smart, I wonder what her brains are like to receive? She's too much of a challenge, though -- too much work.

 

"Sup, baby, what's up? Miss me so soon?" Joshing and fondling my pecker.

 

"Yes, daddio," The desperation in her voice could be felt.

 

"Come over, baby doll -- oh, and wear that little thing daddy appreciates."

 

"Will do."

 

I tap end call, and chuckle -- ironically, in about twenty minutes, I'll be smashing end again. Hit that rump, plenty -- nothing new, I like new, but sure sufficient for now.

 

Discharge myself another double shot of cognac and shoot it back, while revealing a small, clear baggie from my pocket. Out pours some of the most delicate powder known to man -- as white as my hind and twice as fine. Slice a few lines out, one up one nostril and likewise for the other -- no nostril jealousy on this face, I make my bitches jealous, not my nostrils.

 

I fumble for the knob, and I turn on the water while I take off my slacks -- the only thing I'm wearing. The steam rolls out of my lavatory door as I head for the tub. A long night, undeniably. I'll be your papa, keep your daddy issues to yourself, though.

 

Stepping out of the hot sauna-like temperatures, the white fluffy mat beneath my feet tickles my toes. I head to my lodger room; I whistle a happy tune -- swinging open my armoire door. Muffled shrieks of my guest excite me. The thumping of her tied up body can be felt on the floor. She was trying to speak. Something like, 'You don't need to do this, I won't tell anyone. Please let me go, why are you doing this?'

 

They always want to ask why. Why? I can't be bothered with why -- got meetings to be at. My tie slips out of my hand and covers her forehead. I snatch it up -- purposefully oblivious to her pleads, while slamming the wardrobe door hard, I walk away.

 

These senseless fucking boars won't know what slapped them. Everyone deserves what they're getting -- if they poke the resting. They need to let the dogs asleep, lie.

 

The world makes everything so easy, especially these days with the internet. All these victims are waiting for me, like baby ducks. Whores make obtaining themselves so easy for individuals like myself. You'll only find what I want you to find. You'll only be coherent when I want you to be. I'll be in front of you every tiptoe of the way.

 

My costly plush oak-cedar chair is so luxurious, I plunge back into comfort and let my mind drift. Damn, I'm getting one of those headaches again, flashbacks of my past take me away.

 

***

 

"Come on, we're going to be caught!" squeals Ducas.

 

My feet dig into the gravel and grass, I'm not looking back and in a matter of seconds, I catch up to him.

 

"Think we're gravy and no one saw us?" I gasp out the words, while I gasp for my breath.

 

"Happy 16th born day!" he cheers.

 

"Greatest gift ever, getting the fuck out of that shit space!"

 

Today me and my best friend, Ducas, ran away from hell. Our group home, the Society for Orphaned Children. Been here since I butchered my father five years ago. They're unaware of that fact though. My little brother is in an institute, he's a fucking nut.

 

"You remember the outline, right, fuckface?" I ask Ducas.

 

"Of course, dickwad! What do you think I am, brainless?"

 

"No, I was just checking."

 

He's stupid and as slow as they come. Daft as a fucking potato -- which is why he's perfect for my set out. The reason I chose him. He and I planned one project, and I orchestrated another.

 

We stop running and walk. The sun came up not too long ago, and we still got some road to cover before we arrive at our destination -- Acres Financial on First. Today I give myself a gift, I can't remember the last one I received.

 

In my master mind, this contrived path of my new life, is in the making. Ducas here, assumes we've been planning this for months. A robbery -- with perfect execution. Well, the first part, the part he is privy to. He'll find out about the other part eventually, but for now, he's on a 'need to know' basis.

 

"We need to quicken our steps, my brother said he stashed the mini-motorbike up here, past mile marker eight. Behind the big willow tree. No fucking crackhead better have taken it. He said he buried the mini-bike in branches when he left from his last visit with me."

 

We creep, as we advance to the mile marker sign. Here's the willow, where's the motorcycle? Ducas dashes in front of me.

 

"Here, found it!" he blurts out.

 

"Shut the fuck up, moron, you're going to bring heat, and we'll be caught."

 

"The key is right here where he said. We've got to give him some money out of this, or he'll say something." I'm not too fond of threats.

 

"Don't worry about him; I'll take care of him. Come on." While motioning my hand to the seat behind me, he leaps on.

 

I start the bike up; First Street isn't too far from here.

 

"Is there enough gas? The car is waiting where he said, right Ducas?"

 

"Yes, my brother is good like that. The transportation will be there, go!"

 

Off down the asphalt I go, my stomach turns and is in knots. The bulbs of the bank are at the end spread of the road we're on, and we're getting close. I inspire a deep breath, for what's about to go down requires a deep breath. What's about to go down, you ask? I'm about to rob a financial establishment on my birthday. We’re almost here, it should open in a few minutes.

 

As we come to the crossroads, I hide behind a pillar.

 

"Okay, when I go in, you run to where the car is, around the corner. Have the trunk open and ready."

 

I agree, and start my mission, looking at the see-through entrance way. All I want is on the other side of these glass doors -- on the other side of fear. I take one final deep breath as the lady waddles toward the doors to open them for the day. Go time -- don't back out now, puss.

 

I advance toward the door, my motorcycle helmet on still, and my backpack in hand. A lineup of people in front, ready to go in. The manager is opening the vault and is getting the money out for the day -- my day of birth dough. I leap up on the counter and produce my firearm, while I kick everything off the landing I'm standing on while I walk.

 

"Everyone on the fucking floor, and don't even think about hitting that button, cunt. Hands up! You? Load up this bag -- now!" I yelled.

 

She pissed herself, and if I wasn't so preoccupied, it'd be turning me on. Who am I kidding? It still is.

 

I whip the bag at her and keep the bang-bang pointed at her head. She hikes over to the home of the money, where the round bank manager is standing.

 

"Pack the bag, now! No dye packs, or I'll come back and find you and your family and massacre them all while you watch. I'll fucking enjoy the show, so don't tempt me." I smile, and wink at her.

 

The blubbering man now fears I am serious, he fills the sack up faster now. Everyone else is still on the floor but I brandish the gun around some more again for flair. Fat-boy better be in the car, he better not fuck this up.

 

"No small shit, either, Big bills, mix them up too, I don't want a bunch with the same sequence."

 

He hands me the overflowing bag and I hit him in the back of his head with the gun. I belt her too and point the firearm at the guard. He's old like dirt and isn't going to do much. I can tell that by the drool on his chin, he must have been a special hire.

 

I bombard through the glass exit and leap on the waiting, still turned-on bike. A loud buzz sounds now as I hustle off, the fuzz is on the way. I make a sharp left and bolt off down the street -- I make another left to a hidden void, off the side of the main roadway.

 

He’s in the car, so I brake and leap off. We throw it in the trunk and flee. Now we've got to commute out of here. They're looking for a dude with a motorcycle helmet on a bike, not two young men with hats in a shitty brown Volvo. We can't let the pigs be alerted to us. Our hats are in the backseat waiting for us.

 

Now I'm in the driver's seat, and he gets in the passenger side. I throw on the hat and start the car, sirens are in the radius. We need to boogie to my family's old home a few miles from here.

 

I swerve back out to the road, trying to align the car straight. Just in time, as we pass two police cars. They're going so quick they don't even glimpse at us. I'm going the speed limit and not trying to stand out. The dwelling comes into view, out in the stretch -- almost here, shouldn't be long now.

 

I turn right, down the long gravel road of the home I used to live at with my family. The house still abandoned. No one wants this place, after that day. I run the car right inside and hop out to close the behemoth red opening.

 

"Help me, idiot!"

 

He gets out and darts to aid me.

 

"Let me take a sneak-peak! How much do you think we got, huh? Think we're balling'?" he danced around.

 

He makes a yoink for the bag from my hands and I bash him hard in the shoulder, he spilled to the ground.

 

"Don't put your dirty gloves on anything until I say, I want to make sure we're in the clear." I beamed out the old door. "We need to stay here until nightfall."