Leggings: bad nites - present
By maisie
- 482 reads
Now it's three thirty on a Sunday morning and its far from being well. There has been a hullabaloo, shouting voices, is it someone to do with the Overdyes, I hear being picked up, uncaring of who gets the message. She's off after starting her infernal tooth shattering machine upstairs. She's totality uncaring towards whoever she hurts; it appears that she's paid, and any extra's are free. Is she a Nurse or health professional? God knows there are plenty of those who have hardened over time. Overdye is asleep in the toilet again, it appears he wants to keep his old fillings safe in his teeth. She was picked up by car outside minus her children. The noise is deafening. Its high electrical noise – and she appears to be able to target it for the worst effect, it's even present in the loo tonight which is usually a safe area.
She has a harsh voice, not feminine, and is prepared to follow me to wherever I go to finish her job. I wonder about going upstairs to ask Overdye to switch off. It might have to wait until morning, or the argument re the noise could wake the whole block of flats. Her claim is that it can shatter the bones of the face, and push apart my skull fractures, and no one can ever tell the cause of death... Sometimes I wonder about car crashes....
A few hours pass: I take pills, a drink, I wonder how I can talk to someone about all this. There are voices from above: trying to work out a solution. My eyes are closed. It's as if I'm dreaming. Two men and a woman. Grotsomes. Overdye
is shouting telepathically? Is it possible?
“Turn it off! She's threatening to put it into the book!”
“Is alright,” a woman's voice interjected, “We've paid a local university student to overwrite the damn thing. It was either that or claim that you wrote it...”
That must have been the young well built young man I'd seen at the front door on his mobile phone yesterday, explaining that he wasn't going too overwrite that book online at Abctales as his lecturer and Abctales was furious at the very idea. He turned around, took one look at me and looked aghast. It's one of the few times I've seen that look on someone's face.
Quite amusing if true. I'd done a deal with Abctales and he hadn't known. Did he know that in their society failure means death? They do so like to eat the fatter ones. Does he know?
“Turn it off,” Overdye yelled angrily, “Others are complaining.”
“Alright,” returned another male voice sleepily, and the white noise stopped.
They waited for me to sleep again. I hopped out of bed to open the windows, that stops some of the damage. The sad thing is that it deters the birds, and we don't get the morning chorus so much, and the birds are now further out. Hardly the population we once had.
I put on thick night cream. It's also excellent, no idea why, except they hate good skin. Kept the light on. That makes the electrical surge happen and they get a nasty back slash. I'm into self defense where possible. There is no duplicity in this.
They put it on again. I have a terrible head ache. I keep quiet. Eyes closed. Voices again. They whisper. They use the name Suzanne. However I don't see a Suzanne. I see her clearly, tall maybe 5' 9, thin and blonde. I think we've met, possible in my slots at the factory. Or later if or when she worked in one of the towns shops. They continue to talk. She's been paid to keep on until my front teeth fall out. The contract is from one of the shops. She's the tooth fairy. Probably brings a wand.
Later they take phone calls, I've been spreading the joy to people who have forced, forged a link to me, against my wishes.
Reports of headaches, general aches, cold like symptoms. I whisper back of pneumonia, and how bad they'll all feel. Like they say, a pain shared, is a pain halved, or less depending on the equation. Maths can be such fun.
They turn off the noise again. It's too light for vampire activity. I lay back and have a half dream. There is a man cutting with a large knife. He is talking to the meat as he cuts it up. It's a nightmare. He wants to hurt someone. I hope he is only imagining what he is talking about.
….........................
Two nights later, they are at it again. Light tormenting during the evening, leading onto more serious bullying around three am. It's our medical chump with the young girl, Odia, she plays his daughter for this portion of the nightly entertainment. BDSM families apparently do this kind of thing, even when not wearing the strappy leather accessories.
We argue, back and forth. I'm more on the attack now. She's the one who says she stole the poetry prize, and thinks she's got away with it. She feels that congratulations are due. For 'Enery it's just over his so called brother's will, which says he's got to argue over it until nothing is left (of me). He thinks in the brackets as he's very narrow minded. The will just says til nothing is left. He admits this after the bullying session is over as I've never been allowed a copy. "She can't read, you see" He's almost ready to shake his ex sister in law's hand in agreement, when I have just a little bite more. I can't help it, I'm so fed up of the arrgy bargy. I'm doing it in Grandfather mode tonight, lots of old English 'crossed' words. They're bad words. I wouldn't use them publicly.
I pipe up softly, 'Did he mean until there was nothing left?'
'We assume until nothing is left of you...'
'I bet he had nothing to leave. I mean after his death, his bills have to be paid out, and then as you see everything is soon gone.'
“I thought,' sobbed Odia loudly, “That she was going to have all our money.”
“What money?” I asked frankly, “Do you mean the poetry prize money from 2003? That wasn't your money – or your poem.”
I hear her moaning outside loudly as she walks away. Then when far enough away, she says softly, “We've won haven't we. Let's go count up our money.”
“He hasn't left anything.” I point out. “You're thick. He wanted you to spend all your money. Wanted revenge. He spent up his on fast cars and faster women. I never had a penny of it, and wouldn't ask you or him for it. I wasn't fast enough. I wanted to talk.” I can see him laughing at 'Enery and Odia, how much he must have despised them...
'Enery is cock a hoop over his good fortune. He's off to find his girlfriend to split his difference with her. “Shut yer mouth.” he snarls back, his teeth hooping over his lower jaw. He has the countenance of a sad droopy dog. “Can we say she's got Dementia,” he asks the Sister hopefully.
“No,” she snaps back. "We can't."
“It's all the young ones that got that.” I put in helpfully. “I mean you only got to listen to her.” It's whining again. Perhaps the poor thing needs neutering. I'm sure they'll see to it soon.
…..................................................................................................................
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Maisie, these are 'bad nites'
Maisie, these are 'bad nites' in the neighbourhood from Hell! Elsie
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