'Just give up Mikey, just stay here on the road and let the cars pass over you; life would be easier if you were dead' damn that pessimistic voice in my head that kicked in at any moment there was no other noise to hold my distraction. But why was the optimistic voice not fighting it? Could they be agreeing?
"You're insane Mikey!" I said out loud, cracking into hysterical laughter despite the fact that it was the complete opposite to what I wanted to be doing; crying pathetically. But the fact that I now found myself lying in the street in my underwear in the freezing cold weather of Britain was kind of funny, right?
"You're fucking insane!" I repeated a little louder this time and I startled a passing woman and her child, grocery bags in hand, causing her to jump slightly and then scowl as her daughter looked up at her questioningly. The girl's look made me laugh even harder, something I considered impossible only seconds before, because her eyes screamed for an explanation of why there was a half naked man laying in the dirt shouting 'bad bad' words to himself, loudly I must add.
"You're going to hell!" the little girl said in her soft voice while turning to give me a pitying look, "you say bad things!" she stuck her tongue out at me and, even though I was still laughing, I got angry at her. I flipped her off while still rolling around on the ground, my other hand clutching my ribs.
I crawled up onto my knees as more and more people gathered around to see the strange spectacle I had become. I looked around seeing about a dozen either curious or disgusted faces but then my attention was brought back to the girl's mother. She had dropped her groceries and was speeding towards me, furious.
I knew the slap would be coming long before her hand reached to make contact with my skin, it seems that my face has a curse of a violent magnetism to it; I'd lost count of the amounts of times I'd been hurt in the past couple of months. Which is exactly why I stopped laughing instantly and raised myself off the ground so I was standing in front of her, ready.
"It is not okay to hit me!" I shouted.
I grabbed her wrist and pushed her back forcefully, too forcefully, she fell to the ground and her child ran to her screaming and tearful. Before I knew what was happening, a large angry man blocked my only escape from the circle of people that had formed around the scene, my slightly dazed mind could only focus on the vein pulsing in and out and in and out on his forehead, thumping with anger.
His fist retracted...
I was half awake and uncomfortable. I rolled over. I fell.
"What the fuck?" I asked groggily, opening my eyes quickly but then slamming them shut once again as all the blood rushed to my head.
Over the worst of it, I forced them open preparing myself for some kind of light to get used to, but there was none. Well, not bright or blinding lights, just the soft light coming from the small windows; it was pretty dark outside. I pulled myself off the floor, the harsh coldness almost paining my still bare skin, and climbed back onto the plastic mattress laden bed, looking around.
The bars on the windows cast shadows on the cell walls where very artistically, in green spray paint, "Johnny is a cunt" was scrawled. I took a moment to ask myself how people get spray paint past the officers, but then disguarded the thought as I realised a more important question; why the fuck was I in a prison cell?
It's terrible, I know, really I do, but I actually laughed once I caught up with myself; I was in jail because I flipped a little girl off. Well, it all started by flipping a girl off anyway...
There was a screeching noise came from by the door and when I looked over, the small hatch half way down was open and I could see the eyes of a police officer on the other side, staring in. The hatch closed again and very shortly after, the door itself opened.
Light streamed in through the new gap, a lot more light than my eyes could cope with causing me to squint and not be able to make out the identities of the two figures standing in the metal doorway; one slightly back from the other man.
"Have a good sleep did we?" the closest figure asked, stepping into the cell and not sounding too friendly. My breath hitched in my throat in fright but I sighed, inwardly, in relief when, my eyes finally adjusting, I noticed the police officer's uniform he was wearing. The man was old and he was watching me closely, deep in thought.
"Look kid," he sighed and I fought the urge to inform him I'm actually twenty six therefore not a kid, "We have more important things to do than deal with time wasters like you." He folded his arms and motioned for me to stand up, which obviously I did, "If you're gonna drink yourself stupid, don't do it in public, okay." he said, rather than asked.
I nodded even although that wasn't the truth.
"Good, in that case all you have to do is follow me and sign some paperwork etc." the second figure stepped into the hall, smiling cheerfully as if to make up for the other one.
Again, I nodded and then followed the guy gratefully out of the cell.
Indecent exposure? I laughed to myself while hugging my arms around me as I tried to find my way back to the hotel, noting how true the exposure part was as the harsh rain and wind hit me. The miserable bastards at the station wouldn't even give me a jumper out of the 'lost property' box.
Drunk and disorderly; disorderly fair enough, drunk no way! I shrugged as I continued walking in search of the hotel although I lost hope pretty much as soon as I started out; I don't suppose it helps that I haven't got a clue what its called, can't remember what it looks like and didn't pay any attention as I ran to the police station.
I've often watched movies and wondered how it is that the main character always manages to find somewhere even if they haven't been there before, but then it happened to me and I didn't question it. We never see if the character gets back from that place though, that's were the romantic kiss in the rain happens and then 'The End' scrolls across the screen. Well, I need to get back before I catch pneumonia.
I walked past a small coffee shop that was still open, looking longingly in the window at the few customers sipping away at their warm beverages, ignoring the stares I too was receiving. I could definitely smell the coffee through the glass; I could almost taste it I was so fucking thirsty.
Scanning over the customers, my eyes stopped as soon as they locked on a customer, or rather a customer's head, that was sitting near the back of the shop in a booth. Curly hair was all that I could see of the person, although the jacket slung over the high backed booth gave him away; it was definitely Ray.
I was smiling uncontrollably widely as I pushed the door open and entered the shop. Everyone, apart from Ray who was sitting with his back to me stopped to stare as the sodden half naked guy walked through the door, smiling manically but I didn't care. I just walked, trancelike, toward Ray.
"What the fuck happened to you?" he asked, his eyes wide with shock as he pulled his jacket from the behind him and passed it across the table to me as I shivered frantically.
"What hasn't?" I asked, taking his half drunk coffee from him without asking once I had his jacket wrapped around me.
"Look Mikey, what's going on? Frank told me you were asleep like," he checked his watch, "half an hour ago and now you're here soaking wet in you're underwear."
"Frank lied." I said draining the cup, staring at it suspiciously for only a second -Ray had drank the rest, "and I don't know what's going on!" I shook my head and collapsed against the cushions of the booth. "I really don't!" I said again as I noticed his sceptical look.
"Yeah, right. Look it's fine if you, Gerard and Frank wanna leave me out of all this! I don't care if you all have whispered conversations behind my back. After all, I'm just good old Ray; the guy that's there to lend you a jacket when your skin's turned blue with cold or to let you drink his coffee when he was really enjoying it!" he said looking genuinely hurt but sounding immature nonetheless. I just stared at him in shock.
"Look Ray..." I began but stopped as the small bell rang signalling another customer and I looked up to see three burly men walk in, I looked away as I recognised one of them as Stan; his 'FUCK' tattoo scaring me again.
They walked passed us to the booth behind, Ray was doing the same as I was; trying not to stare, they were incredibly intimidating and yet fascinating.
"Marley, she's my girl, you've gotta understand that!" one voice started and I stopped breathing at the mention of the name Marley.
"I don't care Richard, never hit a woman!" presumably, the voice of Marley spat back quite unkindly.
Ray opened his mouth to speak, but I waved my hand to silence him.
"I don't like the idea of her and that guy." The first voice fought back timidly.
"Candy wouldn't do anything with him, she knows better than that." Marley said with a tone that suggested that part of this conversation was over. "Stan, you've met this Mikey guy, what's he like?" my heart began beating painfully faster and Ray's face had paled a little.
"He asked too many question, but I've already told Sally about that." Stan answered.
"Good." Marley said firmly, "and what about this Bob guy Richard? We can't afford for the truth to get out" I heard Ray gulp.
"I'm taking care of that, he won't ever speak again once I'm done with him."
Ray and I looked at each other, our faces mirroring the other's shocked and fearful expressions as the three men's' cold laughter filled the silence in our booth.
Yeah, not much happened but I just thought maybe Mikey should go to jail and make it a 'Way' tradition or somethin'-lol :)
Thank you so much everyone for your kind comments, they mean so much; hugs
Wee bit of info about the graffiti in the cell ("Johnny is a cunt") charming right? Eh, no, but I've lost count of the times I've seen it written round Glasgow...poor Johnny!...although apparently he's a you-know-what :)
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