A Record of Today's Happenings.

"Yusuf,

It seems as though you do not recognise my civility to be what it truly is: my kindness, my mercy. You know where you stand, what you owe and what you must do. Yet your actions reflect nothing but your pathetic neglect of responsibility, or rather accountability. I asked you once, nicely. I was evidently not clear with my words. Let me rephrase this, Yusuf: if you don’t contact me within the next twenty-four hours, the consequences shall be far harsher than just the loss of your life.

In anticipation,

An old friend."

9:27 pm

I am far too drunk to be writing this, but there is not much more I can do, so here I am. I received another letter today. Goddamn fucking letters. Nothing has gone right today. Antonio’s funeral was a bleak affair. I cannot believe he went and got himself killed. I, for one, do not believe any of the crap the townsfolk are saying. Fallen off the cliff? More like pushed. He climbed those stairs everyday, there’s no way he would just fall to his death. Not him. Not Antonio. I was hoping I could spend some time with Drew today, especially after the morning I had had with the damn letter, but she left with Jose, something about being there for him when he needed it. I couldn’t believe her, what did she mean by when he needed it? Since when was he more important than me? How dare she? And I almost said as much, but I stopped myself just in time. Instead, I just smiled and hugged her goodbye. There’s no point in pressing the point right now, I can’t afford to lose Drew, especially after all the hard work I have put in. Pretending to be interested and amazed by her rudimentary knowledge of human anatomy, as if I didn’t already know more than her. As if that was why I humored her. God, I need another drink.

11:34 pm

Things didn’t really improve after that either. The only good thing about the celebration at Mocair’s was the drink. Of course, Erin D’Costa put a stop to it. She had Mocair cut me off after just a few pints. She seems to have taken up Antonio’s role as caretaker of the town. Good for her I say, considering where Antonio ended up. I am rooting for her to be just as successful, she’s always had it out for me. Harry, bless him, continued to pass me a few whenever Erin wasn’t looking. He said that he was adding a ‘little bit of something’ to it so that I could enjoy a different experience even after I had sobered up. I always knew I could count him. The next bits are a bit foggy but I remember being shoved into Akeno’s pick up truck by Erin. She pushed in the back of the truck and all the way till I reached home, I was belted by the torrential rain which unfortunately managed to sober me up for the time being. She didn’t even bother to say goodbye or acknowledge my polite thanks which I had bestowed despite how she had treated me. I do not know what I have done to make her hate me so. I came home, only to find that Bruno had slobbered all over the manuscripts I had arranged, of course the fucking letter was intact. As much as I loved him, that dog doesn’t have the slightest bit of common sense in him. Man’s best friend, my ass. Man’s real best friend was whisky. The one thing that has been good about today and the past two hours is just that. Actually, make that two good things, wait no I forgot to count the bottle that’s rolled under my bed. Three good things, three high quality bottles of whisky. I think I am going to pass out as I write this, in case I do, I will finish this off when I get back.

3:07 am

It was the thundering outside that woke me up, I had fallen asleep at my table. I realized to my horror that I was holding the letter as I slept. I thought about burning it but I couldn’t bring myself to do so, instead I put it where I had kept the other, in the left patch pocket of my coat. I don’t know why I had been carrying the first letter around with me everyday. Oddly, it felt good to know it was with me as much as I hated its existence. It must have been the sheer amount of alcohol I had had or what Harry had put in my drink, but the shadows in the room began to shift, morphing into faces of my past and present. I remember laying on the floor and whimpering, begging for the eyes that bore into me to go away. Brown eyes. Green eyes. Blue eyes. Mismatched eyes. I curled into a ball and waited for their gaze to leave me. After what seemed an eternity they looked away from me and the shadows settled back into their stupor. Curse Harry and his stupid drugs. Now that I had sobered up I went about searching for Bruno in the house but he wasn’t in any of the upper rooms. When I walked down the stairs, I was hit by a gust of wind and water spray. The front door was wide open. With my heart beating fast I slowly walked to the door. Outside the rain was falling too hard for me to see more than a few feet from the door, my heart still thumping. I took a step forward into the darkness and I realized I had stepped on something. As I looked down, I realized I had stepped on the dead body of my dog. A clean slash ran through his stomach, his insides open for everyone to see. I stumbled backwards into my house and locked the door behind me. I remember laughing a dry laugh until my throat hurt as I sat slumped against my door. The shadows would not leave me. Their eyes were watching and with Bruno gone I had no one to take them on with. Nowhere to go, except to her. So that’s what I am doing now, crawling back to her, praying she will let me in at this ungodly hour.