Milly had the sunken eyes of an insomniac, her pale skin sagged off her bones like wet sheets and had the palor of a stained linoleum floor.
Her red eyes gaped and twitched, the pupils swelled in painful fits of rage at the flickering blue lightning of the television. A crust of sticky white saliva was growing from the corners of her mouth as she shouted cynical abuse at toothpaste ads.
Milly hadn’t slept for about three days now, her voice was raspy and she couldn’t seem to concentrate for more than a few sentences, it was painful to watch. Her energy levels ebbed and flowed, whenever I thought she was going to slow down she’d erupt into a violent diatribe, a barely comprehensible slew of ideas and obscenities.
Pinks and I were sitting in muted amazement, the TV was blaring and our conversations were deteriorating into absurdity.
“This is bullshit dude, let’s bail. Do you still wanna catch that gig at Spectrum?” I asked.
“Nodon’t leaveyouguys,Iwannaparty!” whined Milly.
“Come out with us Milly! Sitting here watching you argue with the tele is lame. Pinks lets do it bro.”
“I dunno if I could be fucked anymore man.” moaned Pinks.
“What? You lazy fucker, you always do this! Whatta you wanna do, just sit her and trip out with little miss crackhead here. No offense Milly.” I said.
“Nonetakenfuckface!” mumbled Milly.
“I dunno man its been a hectic night, i’m pretty happy chilling and you know what the coppers said, I can’t be on the road again tonight, they’ll have my balls!” Pinks said.
“Don’t give me that shit, since when do you listen to what the pigs say. You’re such a useless bastard. This fuckin’ TV’ll rot your brain bro.” I shouted in frustration.
I flopped back into an armchair that was covered in dog hair. There was a game show on where contestants had to guess the price of groceries and if they got it wrong they’d be dunked into a pool of coloured water. The confused contestant had wide, wild eyes, she looked as wired as Milly. She was hopped up on the promise of cash and prizes, buoyed by the bright lights and the goading of the hysterical host. The clock was ticking down, her knowledge of the price of tins of tomato soup had the potential to bring her riches, the baying of the studio audience was reaching fever pitch. The camera swayed eratically from a close up of the frayed contestant to the bright white teeth of the host, down to the bubbling blue pool below and back to the hyperventilating crowd. The intensity was blinding, the outcome intoxicating; a lawn-mower, steak knives, digital cameras, a new car! It was all within reach!
“Fuck this! I can’t deal with this bullshit! What are you making me watch this?” I shouted as I jumped from the moist arm chair.
“I’m goin’ out, you bums can do what you like.”
I grabbed a bag of charlie off the coffee table, threw on my jacket and headed for the door.
Milly didn’t take her eyes off the screen, Pinks gave me a confused look and just mumbled some abuse before returning to concentrate on his cigarette.
I was weaving my way down the cluttered corridor when I heard a sudden screaming argument erupt right outside the front door, it was so sudden and so loud I was frozen in shock. Then a thud rattled the door on its hinges, someone had lunged, or been shoved, into the door. I could hear more voices shouting and and more jostling, fuck, it was a fight, right on the doorstep! Who the fuck was it? Should I help? Fuck!
To be continued…
