It was a long night. Drunken snoring from the living room gave me even less reason to try and sleep again. To drown it out, I had at least ten cigarettes in the space of the four hours left of the night. And once the morning dawned, I knew that the day would be an interesting one.
I got a lot of useful ammunition last night. So many little bullets to damage the man that has caused me such fear in this past week. He thinks he's some untouchable force, never to be messed with. He's got another thing coming. I'm going to break him down. Make him as weak as he makes me feel.
I'll destroy him.
I unlock the bathroom door and wander through to the living room again. Much to my surprise, Mark isn't there. Considering the comatose state that he was in when I left him and Danny, I didn't think I would get the pleasure of ruining his life until long into the afternoon. But clearly, someone somewhere has decided to cut me a break for a change.
A loud groan from the kitchen tells me exactly where he is. This is it, Alex. Don't back down now. I take a deep breath and peep around the corner.
His back is turned away from me. I don't need to see his face to tell that he feels like shit this morning. Serves his right. I hope he feels half as much pain as my chest did when he went to attack me. Half as much pain as the fear I felt when I stared into his eyes. Half as bad as the fear consuming me now...
He turns around and our eyes meet. He looks exhausted. And I notice that he's got his hat back on his head. He must be ashamed. Oh yes. Just feed me fuel, boy. He sighs angrily, massaging his temples.
“I'm not in the mood,” he grumbles. “Just fuck off, would you?”
A part of me wants to. The clever side of me knows that what I'm about to do is extremely stupid. Don't stick your foot into a pool full of piranhas. That's what my mam always used to tell me every night after I'd beaten up some boy at school for looking at me the wrong way. But you know what? Fuck that. I'm willing to lose a foot if I can rip out his stone heart.
He glares at me again when he realises I haven't moved.
“I asked nicely,” he snarls. “So fuck off.” But still I don't move, causing him to turn his back to me with a growl. “Stupid bitch...”
“I don't want to.”
My voice comes out in a whine that matches his own last night. The little pathetic whimper that escaped his inebriated lips. And he knows exactly what I'm doing. His head snaps back to me, the fire in his eyes attempting to burn a hole in my skull.
“What?” he spits.
“I like water,” I tease, taking a few brave steps towards him. “It's my favourite. It's my new best friend. Just like Mr Planky. Hello, Mr Planky...”
“You'd better quit whilst you're ahead,” he snarls at me, his body shaking with a combination of rage and a raging hangover.
“Why?” I sneer. But he doesn't answer, knowing that it's yet another memory of the night that just passed. I snigger, my eyes darting to his hat. “What you got hidden under there then?”
“None of your business.”
“I think you'll find that it is,” I say slowly, taking another step forwards. “I think you'll find that everything that you're ashamed of, every little humiliating aspect of your sick little life...That's my business. You forget, you see. We're buddies. And buddies tell each other everything. So why don't you tell me what's hidden under that beanie? Hmm?”
He meets me halfway, leering over me. A clear attempt to scare me into backing off. Shut up, beating heart. Let me have this one victory...
“I have hair,” he snarls in my face. “That's all that's under this hat. Thick, ginger hair. Now, would you kindly fuck off before I wipe that stupid smirk clean off your face?”
