There's No Reason To Get Aggressive

“I think that bowl is clean now.” I grunt, taking it out of her hands to dry it off.

That bitch just won't fucking leave!

“There's no reason to get aggressive.” she whispers.
“You're still here, right?”
“Yes?”
“Then I have more than a thousand reasons to get aggressive.” I huff.
“Come on, baby,” she coos, placing a wet hand on my shoulder. “don't be like that!”

Jesus Christ!

I shake her hand off.

“You better get the Hell out of here, before I bash you!”
“I like it rough!”

I tug at my hair.

This chick is a nightmare.
Fuck!

Rad purrs, grinding his ugly cat face against her leg.

“Listen, bitch, you better get the fuck out of here, before I call the police!”
“Do that,” she smiles. “while they're here, I can tell them about the cute little bags of white powder you have hidden under the sink!”

Shit.

“You went through my stuff?” I growl.
“I needed to find a towel, right?”

And now, we're back to how I'll kill for a bottle of chloroform.
Like having a hangover isn't enough!
My hands are tickling, and the urge to just slap the absolute Hell out of her grows stronger by the second.

“I thought you said you'd fall for me.” she whispers.

A tear runs down her cheek, a silent thud sounding as it lands somewhere in the sink.

“Guess what,” I chuckle. “I lied. I wanted to fuck you and move on with my lovely life of not having to deal with a permanent bitch.”
“Why are you so mean?”

I shrug my shoulders.

“Do you know those guys, who are assholes on the outside, but on the inside, they're hiding a horribly sad past of hurt and terrors?” I mutter.
“Yes?”
“Well, I'm not one of those, I'm just an ass,” I snap my fingers, pointing to the door. “now, get the fuck out of here!”

She looks at me with a pair of teary puppy eyes.
Ugh.
It's nauseating.
Jesus Christ.

I give her a gentle push in the right direction, cocking an eyebrow.

“Won't you please let me stay?” she weeps.
“No.” I chuckle.
“I have nowhere else to go!”
“Ah, guess what, I don't give a shit, go stay with your friend, or find a corner in the city or something!”

She smacks my cheek so hard my ears starts to ring.
Damn!

“You're a prick!”
“And proud of it,” I hiss, rubbing the now very sensitive skin. “you know where the door is!”

She sprints out of the kitchen.
And locks herself in the bathroom.
Great.
Just great.

Karma, why'd you have to get me today!?

Ah, well.

I light a cigarette and lean against the counter, considering my options.

Call the police, and I'll get arrested for possession of drugs.
And they'll take my amphetamine.
Can't have that!
Beat her up?
Same result, plus extra charge.

Fuck.

Rad meows at me, sitting down in front of his food bowl.

“You're not getting shit, you little traitor!” I scoff.

I massage my temples.
I was having a slight headache when I woke up.
Now?
Way beyond headache.
This is head-exploding.
And even that is an understatement.

I really have to play sweet, don't I?
Shit.

I throw the cigarette-butt out of the window, hoping for it to hit someone.

I stop myself as I'm about to knock on the door.
I don't know her name.
I don't think I even asked for it.
Wow, I really am an ass!

“Hey,” I shout. “what's your name?”
“Allie.” she sniffles.
“Fine, Allie, you have to come out, okay? We'll talk about it, I'll get you a cab, heck, I'll even pay for a hotel room, or whatever.”
“No!” she screams.

I stick a finger in each ear, somewhat muffling the sound.
Holy fucking shit!

“What is it you want?” I sigh.
“Let me stay,” she cries. “just one more night!”

I roll my eyes.
What can I do?
I'm way to tired to deal with this shit!

“Fine.” I huff.

The door unlocks, and she steps out.
Black streaks of mascara covers her cheeks.

“But then I have to lay down some rules,” I grunt. “you don't touch anything, you stay away from my dope and you stay away from me, got it?”

She nods.

Thank fucking God.
I need some sleep.







She's curled up in a corner of the couch, halfway asleep from what I can see.
Even when she's quiet she's annoying.

I shift through the channels, unable to find anything I want to watch.
This just sucks.
Really.

I turn on Netflix, but still, nothing.

“Hey,” I say, poking at her with my foot. “find something.”

I toss her the remote, somewhat accidentally hitting her in the face.

Oops.

I snigger silently.

“Is there a specific genre you like?” she mutters, stroking her forehead.

Damn, I hit her dead on!
Amazing!

“Nah,” I shrug. “horror movies, I guess.”
“Cool.”

I hate her.
With a passion.

She puts on Friday The 13th, a movie I've seen just about a thousand times before.
It's fine.
She'll be out of here tomorrow.
Or I'll seriously lose it!