Diary of a Daydreamer

Psychological Thriller, Take a journey throught the eyes of an addict who quickly delves deeper into the interwoven realms of reality and fiction. Dark Humour.

Some editing still required.


11. Missing Links

I didn’t want to stay in the company of Max for too long but hopefully I’ll be able to get some answers from Sarai’s saviour, Trevor. He was one of Max’s stooges after all. Even though he’s as thick as three planks, he must know something to help solve this riddle. Last I heard he was hiding out round Sarai’s place. That’s my next stop on this journey of hell. I catch a night bus, making sure I get there quick; I don’t want to be caught on the lucky streak of a mugger who mistakes me for a cash machine. This money is no small change and this is only half the money that was put up for Lauren’s death. What did she get herself involved in? I hold the suitcase tight in my hand as I get to Sarai’s flat. I knock on the door, the lights are all on but no one seems to be home. I push the buzzer. The door is too secure to kick down and there aren’t any windows to climb through. I keep pounding on the door till the bones in my hand feel like they’re going to shatter. I hold the buzzer down longer every time with the same outcome; no one answers. They must be in; problem is Trixie probably told them not to open the door for anyone. I switch hands because I don’t think my right can handle the damage anymore seeing as its gone numb. I’m locked out, on the streets of the city, not knowing my fate. Exhaustion creeps up on me as the night gets colder. I attempt to set up camp and sleep on the steps, my arms locked around the briefcase. Each time I shut my eyes, I see every electrical signal firing down each axon in my brain, each glowing neurotransmitter released at synapses only to see them dancing, as if I were gazing at an entire galaxy through a kaleidoscope. I’ve never seen lights so bright. No sleep for me now. I’m definitely down the rabbit hole now, fearing if I’ll be returning anytime soon if ever at all. An immeasurable amount of time goes by until I finally hear movement on the other side of the door. The latches and locks unbolt, the handle turns as the door swings open. Trevor’s standing there with a baseball bat. I can tell from the fear in his eyes that he’s going to take a swing at me with the aluminium bat. As anger moves over his mug, it’s the first time I see him without that vacant look of stupidity he loves to express. He’s a big lad and he’s planning to hit a home run with my face. Instinctively I dive forward into him and with my numb right hand I drive it straight through the giant’s jaw. A huge crack of bones can be heard; not sure if it’s my hand or his face breaking. Sarai screams as Trevor falls down. Trixie enters the room, cigarette in hand and an unimpressed expression on her face as if she were expecting me to make such an entrance.  With Sarai seeing to Trevor’s jaw I walk through to the kitchen with Trix. Before I even manage to pull out a chair, she asks me enough questions to fill an exam. I haven’t studied for it. With my head spinning I tell her to slow it down and ask me one query at a time. She grabs some ice and holds it ransom till I answer some questions. She asks me why I punched Trevor when I came in; I tell her how he was about to smash my face in with a baseball bat. She calls me crazy and tells me that he wasn’t even holding a bat and I should get my head checked. I tell her that I’ll start with checking my hand. She throws me the ice pack. I don’t believe her, feeling the trust fading between us. I clearly saw the bat in his hand, ready to swing at me. On the other hand it’s not the first time I’ve seen things that aren’t there. It’s been happening more and more over the last few days. It must be all the stress. Next question she wants to know where I’ve been for the last twenty-four hours. I tell her my side of the story leaving out the part where I gained ten Grand. That’s got to stay a need to know basis with no one needing to know. Trixie’s next question is “what’s in the briefcase?” I go on the defensive and tell her it’s just some stuff I grabbed from my apartment. I start to wonder how she’s managing to get all the questions in. I came round to get the answers. I don’t have any answers to give out. Trixie has that power to entrance men without them knowing what they are saying. It’s a great skill to have in her line of work. I better keep my wits and stay in control of this conversation.  Before I get to ask a question a groan comes from the hall; Trevor’s up. I look over at him, there’s no bat in site. The lack of drugs is hitting me harder than I thought. Trevor stands up and walks over with an ice pack over his face. I’m quick to apologise to him. I don’t want the big guy to return the punch. After a lot of explaining to Trevor and Sarai, I finally get to ask a few questions about Max and Lauren, but just like before they didn’t know anything new. I think Trevor knows so little that if I hang around him too long he might drain information from me like a black hole. I ask them if they know anything about Rick the dealer telling them he looked in bad shape. They look at each other, they know something that they aren’t telling me, can’t tell what any of them are thinking. The three of them decide to leave the room for a private talk. What are they hiding? I overhear the conversation through the door to find out a story more breath-taking than I dare to believe...

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