The Guy Who Had All The Time In The World (7/8) By Joe Hakim

(1/8), (2/8), (3/8), (4/8), (5/8), (6/8), (7/8), (8/8).

I took a knife from the kitchen, and then I immediately went out and got a shot gun and a samurai sword from the shop in town near the cenotaph on Ferensway. When I got back, I barricaded the entrance to the flat, and then I waited by the door for what seemed like ages, panting, sweating, the demons in my head fuelled by the whizz and adrenaline. Eventually I crashed and collapsed into the sofa. The zombies still haven't arrived, and I'm guessing that they never will.

For some reason, this crazy episode got me thinking about things like family and friends for the first time since this shit happened. It may sound cold, but the fact that I'll never see them again doesn't really bother me that much, but now I'm thinking about the lads, thinking about going out with them and drinking and trying to pick up birds on a Friday. And I'm thinking about my Mam and my brother, hoping that they're okay, wherever they are. For the first time since the 'event', I start to feel a bit lonely. My moods are shifting wildly, and a regular sleep pattern becomes a distant memory. When I do drift off, I just dream about the sky.

Between the situation, the drugs, the porn and the TV, I don't know what's real and what isn't.

I've prescribed myself a course of Seroxat, and combined with all the other shit I'm on, I drift through the days in a weird half-awake/half-dream state. I'm becoming the zombie that I thought were waiting around the corner to attack me. And then something inside me snaps. There was this girl I was involved with - well, I say involved, but the truth is, I'd just met her in Sharkey's a couple of weeks before the 'event'. Me and my mate Carl were both after her, but I managed to get her phone number and find out where she lived. I got the feeling she was keeping me at bay. I don't know why, but there you go.

For reasons I can't quite explain, I start dreaming about her, dream that she's alive, waiting for me to come and discover her, so after a week of this, I decide to go around to her house. She lives in Hessle, so it's a bit of a hike, but I feel like walking somewhere a bit different. There's all types of crazy shit flying around my head right now; I don't know what the fuck I'm doing anymore, so in my haze I actually believe that I might find her alive. She lived with her parents, and it's quite a big gaff. After I break in, I go to the kitchen and look in the fridge. There's a couple of really expensive bottles of wine so I take one, open it and start swigging straight from the bottle, and then I go up to Lynsey's room and let myself in.

It's a typical girly room; all pastel colours, teddy bears and posters. I go over to her dressing table and put the bottle of wine down and get a lump of hash out. I roll a spilff and light it, and then I put the telly on and I put a lesbian porn film that features a girl that's the spitting image of Lynsey in the DVD player. I see her laundry basket in the corner of the room, so I fish out a pair of her knickers. I lie back on her bed, pull her underwear over my head and get my cock out. Before long I'm strumming away, accompanied by the grunts of the on-screen dykes.

Continued...Next Page (8/8)

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