In the Absence of a Good Life

(11) Phone a Friend

The Screw Up (A.K.A The Boy - Jimmy):

It was the day after I'd so cleverly given myself concussion. After a few bouts of violent regurgitation of the contents of my stomach, I'd advised myself to go to hospital but then again, Mr. I'm-So-Clever can go and DO one. Oh, wait... that's me. Thanks a lot brain, I knew you hated me, but REALLY?

I slapped myself hard on the cheek. This concussion lark was not fun anymore. I was seriously losing the plot. I must've fucked myself up pretty bad.

No surprises there.

I winced as my annoying ring tone announced to me that someone was trying to call my phone. I was not in the mood. I had an excruciating headache that felt like my brain was trying to escape from my skull the only way it could - down my spinal column. Wait, that's what happens with really bad concussioney brain bleedy things, isn't it? Shiiiiit.

Contradicting myself, I picked up my phone and answered the call. I actually pressed the right button this time. Predictably, it was Gus on the other end of the line.

'So Jimmy, I've had a talk with a close friend. Someone's looking down on ya, boy. Someone who doesn't feel the need to shine a magnifying glass on ya and watch ya burn.'

'Brutal, hello to you too by the way. I'm fine, thanks for asking'. I answered.

'I skipped the pleasantries fer good reason. Ya lied to me kid. Ya said ya could pay back, remember? One of those many times that I've called ya, ya told me ya had the money. And now I find out that ya've spent it all!' He chuckled down the phone. 'Cuz, I knew ya were messed up, but it's like ya WANT to sabotage yerself and get killed!'

'Yeah, well maybe I do. Maybe I'm just fed up with the way things have been going for me.' What was  I saying? I really wasn't in any fit state to talk business with a thug that I owed money to. I promised myself, when this phone call is over, I am taking you to the hos...I mean, I'm going to the hospital.

'Look, Jimmy. Ya're family, and I like ya, I really do,' I couldn't help but scoff at this, 'so I've decided to go a little easier on ya, alright? I'm gunna give ya three weeks more to pay up. See, that's a whole month ya got for yerself there, lucky man.' He was patronizing me, and he knew that I knew it.

'Gee, thanks.' I said. I tried to muster as much sarcasm as I could and put it into that one tiny sentence.

'Though, if ya don't pay up, the consequences are gunna be more severe. Ya hear?'

'What? Like, you're going to break my legs or something?' I joked. I heard Gus' cruel and sinister laugh at the end of the line.

'No, lad, I'm gunna fucking kill ya.' He hung up soon afterwards. He had said his parting words in such a friendly, joking manner, that it didn't sound nearly as serious as it should have been. Though the words themselves sank in, despite my concussion.

I don't know if it was because of the way I had lived my life had finally caught up with me, or if it was because of my concussion. Hell, it might've been both! But either way, it caused me to do something that I hadn't done before the previous day. At least, not while I was sober. Frankly, it scared the living shit outta me.

I blacked out.

Sorry body, guess I can't take you to the hospital after all...

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Hey :D only me:) again...

Gus is so mean!! right?

Poor Jimmy :)

Anyways! I hope you enjoyed it :)

thanks:D

ifindedcake :)

P.S I really want to finish this story before the start of November, if I manage it, I might enter it into the Watty awards, but I seriously doubt if I can do it...