The Letterbox
It was her fault, what happened. That woman's, for creepin me out and like totally overreactin. It was Deano's too, and Mam's, and that fuckin bulldog's. I mean, that Thursday was a right scorcher so like obviously I had a few cans, but it was Deano got me on the voddy. I wasn't even bothered for it. But then after the shots I just needed to chill, watch a bit of Easties, any old shite. Wouldn’t have been any bother except Mam was on one again about me doin somat useful. Thursday, it was the letters. That's the only reason I was out.
Thing is, we'd just moved in the flat last month, and practically every day there was some letter come for this Mary Kielty, whoever the fuck she is. So obviously, any normal person would just chuck em, right? But that wasn't good enough, not for our Mam. She piled em up, wrote, "not at this address" on every one in her big scrawly writin, and then telt me to take them up the letterbox. Like always with her, it was a big deal. Got to be right now, didn't want them clutterin up the lobby.
'So you take em?' I told her.
'With my knees? Are you kiddin me?’ And that was it, she was on one. ‘Back's playin up too. Never been the same since I carried you for nine bleedin months. Like you care, yer ingrate. If you bothered your arse to get a job then we'd have some money for that physiotherapy like what Molly Gordon gets. But oh no, not you. Can't be arsed. What did I do? That's what I ask meself night and bleedin day. What did I do to get such a useless bloody kid? Such an ungrateful, useless lump of -'
I grabbed the letters and slammed the door, glad to just get the fuck out.
So that's me, stompin up Horsley Road tryin to forget about Mam's yakkin and get back to the feelin I had before, watchin Britain's Hottest Babes on You Tube with Deano's voddy warm in my belly. And that's when I see her, the weird woman from number 81, lit up under the street-light.
She's walkin down towards me. Mrs Abuja, somat like that. I've seen Mam talkin to her at the shop, but then Mam'll talk to anyone, even her, with her black cloak like somethin off Star Wars and that tight hood with the mask bit that goes across her face. Like, literally all you can see is her eyes, peerin through this little slit. The closer she gets, the more it creeps me out. I mean, how can anyone think about Britain's Hottest Babes when there's people walkin round like that?…
to be continued
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