A Friend in Need

I heard voices I'm not crazy I think that's what woke me.

My tongue rasped, my head pounded, and my brain felt as crooked as the bed I lay on. One corner smashed in, and the mattress balanced unevenly on top. Wobbling every time I moved.

Fury close to the surface, it didn't take much, or take long, for my rage to flare. Any sounds in the flat would have done it.

I flew to my feet, narrowly missing the bottle of my own piss. Having my attention drawn to that only made me angrier. The room stank of it. The piss I mean. The fury. The sweat I was drenched in.

My splintered desk seemed to grin at me, sheepish as the totalled computer sitting in the wreck of it. The rest of my room matched. I'd turned out to be quite the interior designer, when he left. With her. Leaving me stuck in here.

A crack ran down the length of the window, now, spidering out in the top right corner. My shelves were splintered, books thrown all over, the lamp broken.

I'm not sure what I shouted, only that it was closer to a scream. Couldn't hear what was going on just on the other side of the door.

It burst open, almost hitting me in the face with some force.

The officers stood there in their uniforms, their shirts that specific shade of pale blue that made me want to vomit, with a concerned expression to match just hoovering around their eyes.

Behind them, he stood, twisting his fingers together and gawping through his hideous glasses like a big, worried rabbit.

"He's been in there for hours,” he said. “He won’t answer me. I just didn’t want him hurting himself.” I laughed. It came out like a snarl.

How I didn't kill the lot of them on the spot, I'll never know. I had a nasty feeling they were a whisker away from sectioning me, so a violent outburst wouldn't have worked in my favour.

They were gonna leave though, right? And then that little twerp would be at my mercy.

I heard them ask him if he has somewhere else to stay.

"Yes, Officer," he says, meek as you like, practicaly cringing, hands balled up in his anorak pockets. "But I don't think that will be necessary. I don't think he's that far gone. I think he knows-" and here he shot me a look, knowing I could hear him, "I think he knows hurting me would be going too far."

The uniform looked doubtful.

"Truly, I think he just needs a friend."

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