The great redeemer

I lit up a fag as I looked out the window at another cold, miserable fucking day. The snow was still there, ground still frozen, after two fucking months. How is a gardener supposed to fucking garden in this shit?
Resigned to another day of doing fuck all I flick on the telly. It’s that annoying time when you land on the adverts on every channel. It’s nearly Christmas so every advert is an idea for a present, kid’s fucking toys, and perfume for your Ma, a fucking diamond studded fucking watch worn by some prick golfer for your Da. What the fuck did I come back up home for? Alright so things had gone a little bit skewhiff down there but for fucks sake what made me think that Home was the answer.
6 months I’ve been back. I managed about a month in me Mam and Dads before the same old shit arguments started up again. I don’t see the problem in smoking in my bedroom, it’s not like it was weed, and I was going in the garden for that. I hate the way they make me feel like a fucking moody teenager. Anyway enough was enough and it wasn’t long before I landed here in this delightful little shithole.
Winter has hit the old place hard. The mould around the windows has spread to the ceiling. The woodchip fucking wallpaper just acts as a sponge and sucks up all the moisture in the air. Who the fuck thought it was a good idea to put that up on a bathroom ceiling needs their fucking head examining. I spark up another fag as I flick the kettle on. I open the fridge to find no milk, twat!
Coat on, collars up bracing myself for a blast of that lovely North-East weather. Seriously what the fuck did I come home for? Down the street not looking at anyone, avoiding even the slightest bit of eye contact, I hate all the cunts on this street, fucking layabout dole-ites or busybody old fucking women giving you black looks cos you’ve got a bottle of cider before the kids have even got on the bus to school.
And there we have it the first sensible thought of the day. Cider. It didn’t take long before that drunken fucking angel on my shoulder sent me a timely reminder of the answer to all my problems. No chance of work today? Weather fucked you off again? Can’t be arsed to do anything else? Let’s get fucking pissed then.
I forego the bottle of milk for a 3 litre bottle of white lightning. It’s fucking disgusting stuff but I haven’t found anything else that comes close to it for knocking the shit out of memories and heartache.
Home, sweet home. I sit myself down in the manky old chair and grab the laptop. Facebook has been a right revelation in my life. I now no longer have to go anywhere or speak to anyone, I know what everyone’s up to, can look at photos from nights out that I would have no interest of going on and most importantly can keep tabs on Ellie.
She split up with me right but she insisted we still be friends. That she still cared about me, it just wasn’t working out with us being in a relationship. So I agreed thinking that maybe it was just her trying to figure out some shit in her head and she wanted to keep me close so she could jump back into my arms at any time. They are and always will be open and waiting.
I guess that was the main reason for moving back up here. When she started seeing that Dan prick from her work I couldn’t handle it man. She was still all matey, even invited me out when he was there, and thought it would be a good chance for us to get to know each other. “You have so much in common Frankie, he’s a great guy” yeah fucking right like I wanted to know that cunt. Like I wanted to be friends with the cunt who is with My Ellie, the lass I was going to spend my life with, the lass who saw the good in me when even I couldn’t. Fuck man she even got on with me Mam.
It’s not like i'm stalking her. We’re friends and she posts all this stuff on there for everyone to see, me included. It’s not stalking. I flick onto my wall, click on the most recent. Aye sure enough there’s a post from Miss Ellie. She fucking loves it she does; every minor fucking event in her life is broadcast to the Facebook masses. She’s got over a thousand friends and I know she doesn’t know that many people; it’s all a load of fucking shite.
So what’s she up to then. Ellie Gould .......is getting engaged!!!
Fuck.
I’m taking the three exclamation marks to show that she’s happy about the decision. Shit.
I light up a fag and take a big fucking swig from the cider. The bottle’s almost gone which is bad fucking news cos I’m going to need more than 3 fucking litres today. I take out my wallet to see what I can scrape together, there’s a fiver in the note compartment and what feels like 3 pound coins and a bit of crap in the change bit. Fucking result at last, there was a £2 coin as well as the three 1-ers so that makes £10 and some shrapnel.
I decide the best course of action is to walk into town to the Sainsbury. God bless their basics range. £8.50 for a bottle of Vodka. Fair enough you can probably strip cars with it but it’ll do the job for me.
It’s not too bad a walk into town, despite the shitty weather; it gives me a chance to think about all the shit things in my life. Ellie – gone, fucking some other gadgie and now looks like she’s going to marry the prick. Job – haven’t worked in months, frozen ground and snow do not help out those of us in the gardening trade. I’m fucking skint and I don’t know if I can make it through to summer. I was hoping for some Fencing contracts, reckoning on that North East wind to earn me a few bob repairing peoples fences then dropping the odd hint like ‘have you ever thought of having a patio’, or conversely ‘patios are a thing of the past, everyone’s back on lawn now’, to set me up for the summer. But no it’s not been all that windy to be truthful, just a lot of fucking snow and cold as brass monkey’s.
Into the supermarket, Vod sorted and getting the fuck out of there. I can’t wait till I get home so I crack open the bottle there and then and take a big swig, feeling it burning my insides all the way down. I’m nearly sick and have to hold onto a bin to steady myself. I look up to see some old women and young mam’s pushing prams giving me black looks. “What the fuck youse looking eh” I slur at them through spit and bloodshot eyes.
Back at home, back in the manky old chair, back on Facebook.
Ellie Gould .........is getting engaged!!!
16 people like this
Fucking arseholes the lot of ya. Let’s see what people have been saying about your fucking news then eh Ellie.
Di Walker congrats honey, he’s a great guy XXX
By which she means ‘better than that last prick you were with, he was a fucking loser’. She never fucking liked me did Di, snooty fucking cow.
Sarah Perry OMG! Excellent news babe, when’s the hen?
Dizzy fucking cow.
Lisa Connoly Brill babes, you guys are so right for each other. Best start looking for a hat!
So right for each other. So fucking right for each other.
I can’t be arsed to look at any more. I take another big gulp from the bottle of Vod, light up a fag and close the laptop screen. Dark fucking thoughts are going round my head. Four fucking years I spent with that bitch, four fucking years. We had a flat, a fucking cat, we had a joint fucking bank account. Then one day she just turns round and says it’s over. That she can’t be my emotional crutch anymore. Emotional crutch what a fucking pretentious thing to say, that definitely came from Di fucking Walker Miss fucking therapist. You’re only a fucking speech and language therapist Di you’re not a fucking psychiatrist, you don’t know the inner workings of the human mind.
Should I ring her or not? I drink up the rest of the Vod, stub out one fag and light another straight away. What would I say to her? You bitch you’ve ruined my life. Dan’s a prick what the fuck do you see in him? I love you Ellie please come back I don’t know what to do without you.
Fuck it. I get out my mobile and call her up.
“Hi Frankie how are you babe”
“Don’t fucking babe me, what the fucks going on”
“I take it you’re not calling to congratulate me then”
“Very fucking funny, don’t you think it’s a bit sudden you’ve only known him 5 minutes”
“I’ve knew Dan for years and you know that. We’ve been in a relationship for nearly 9 months now”
“We were together for four fucking years in case you’d forgot”
“And what difference does that make Frank. Dan’s different to you”
“Different how, he has a wad of cash and a nice fucking flat in Islington, I never knew you were so fucking shallow Ellie”
“It’s got nothing to do with that. He’s not a fucking idiot for a start. And he doesn’t get pissed every day and every night, crying on my shoulder about how the world doesn’t care”
“Look why don’t you take your time eh, don’t rush into it. Come up North for a weekend, we could have a laugh”
“It’s not going to happen Frank. Look I’ve moved on its time you did too”
“But I love you Ellie, I can’t do this without you”
“You’re going to have to learn Frank, I’m not your carer I don’t have responsibility for your life”
“Well thank you very fucking much, you fucking bitch”
I hang up the phone and throw it across the room. It smashes off the wall and breaks into a million bits.
Well that’s that then. The fucking bitch has gone and put the final nail into the coffin. I’m sick as fuck and don’t know what I’m going to do. I look at the bottle of Vodka, empty. Cider, empty. I take a fag out and see that I’ve got one left after this one. I’ve got just under 2 quid in my pocket and fuck all in the bank. I go to the kitchen with its mouldy windows and grease stained walls. Pulling open cupboards looking for something to drink. Fuck all. There’s some Red wine vinegar that looks tempting and I even go so far as to take a little drink out of the bottle but it makes the Cider taste like champagne. I throw the bottle onto the floor, the glass shattering and the vinegar spilling out.
I collapse onto the floor crying my eyes out. I start picking the bits of broken glass up, cutting my fingers to bits. My blood mixing with the vinegar, tears falling from my face. Why the fuck me? Why did I have to fall in love with that fucking bitch? Why did I have to waste so much of my life making plans that would never be fucking fulfilled. I’m crawling along the floor, through the glass and the blood, the vinegar and tears, out of the kitchen to the bathroom.
I stand up in front of the mirror. My face is covered in streaks of blood and snot. “You look fucking ridiculous” I snarl at myself. I light up my last fag. “No wonder she fucking left you, look at ya you’re pathetic” I punch the mirror, breaking the glass and cutting my hand even more. I stare at my reflection in the shattered mirror; my face looks distorted and broken. My mind feels the same.
I sit on the toilet bowl, head in my hands. There’s no point anymore. She was my last hope. The great redeemer. I’ve fucked off everyone who was close to me. Mates have all disappeared, all through my life. Couldn’t fucking trust me, I was too fucking dodgy always with my finger on the self destruct button. No one wanted to be too close in case they got caught in the backlash. Moving down south was my big chance to start a new life, and that went shit for a while until I met her.
Now she’s gone and there’s no one else. 6 months back up Home and the only person who calls me is my fucking mam. I’ve seen some of the old lads out and about and they’re all like ‘Nice to see you Frank we should go for a pint sometime, give us your number’ and then never fucking call.
There’s no point anymore. I scan the floor and see some of the broken mirror, sharp and deadly. I pick it up. This time is for real, no fucking cry for help like before. This time there is no help I need. I know what needs to be done.
The End