Come in, sit down and tell me about your week. Was it exciting? Did you finally get the acknowledgment from your boss that you’ve been trying to get for the past twenty years? Are you counting down the days till the weekend? You know what, don’t answer that. I don’t really care. Your lives bore me, all the trials and tribulations you create for yourselves, all the problems you create in order to feel that excitement that you then vigorously deny and act like your stressed and you can’t cope. Stop your crying; you did it to yourself so be an adult and deal with it. Today I’m consumed with hatred, I’d tell you why but that would give you a glimpse of a side of me that I would much rather keep hidden. Let’s just say that if God existed once, well surely he doesn’t anymore. What God would punish the innocent and allow the sinned to carry on. I am evil, I have done things that would make a priest weep and where’s my punishment? Where’s my pain? My pain right now exists because I can’t deal with the world in which God abandoned. Christ, I sound like a religious nut. I’m not, I don’t even believe in God but today I’m being one of those people that I can’t stand; I’m blaming a God I don’t believe in because of something I don’t understand. Don’t worry; my hypocrisy is all too obvious to me.

            Just when everything is working out something always goes wrong. The job went fine, no hiccups and no drama. Everyone was in high spirits, well mostly everyone was high. The party went on for days and when the bender finally calmed down; the shit hit the fan and covered us all. Monroe had taken the call and I knew as soon as he looked over at me that something bad was going down. The call was quick and so was the beating. What had I done to deserve three broken ribs, two black eyes and concussion? Nothing, well nothing that he knew about anyway. The beating was because he had to blame someone, he had to take his anger out and unfortunately as I had ties to this current problem, I got to be his punch bag. So laying on the floor in a broken heap was where I finally got to hear the words I’d been dreading. Did he really think it didn’t hurt me as much as it hurt him? I mean Christ a beating I can take but those words cut through my heart and left a wound so deep that it will never heal. All this may not make sense to you but the less you know about it the better. Three people in the world know about it and that is how it has to stay. Forgive my vagueness but for once in my life this isn’t about me and it isn’t for you to know

            I very rarely loose control over my emotions, emotions will get you killed and I didn’t want to die. But the last few days have been spent in oblivion of alcohol to numb my broken heart, to make me forget everything. I’d been keeping as far away from Monroe as I could, I didn’t really care what this meant for the deal with G and to be honest it’s not like it was getting anywhere. Last night, I followed the same routine of going to the bar, getting as wasted as I could and then getting into a fight. I would have won the fight last night had Montana not stepped in and dragged me away from him. Montana never looses his cool, he never shows you what he’s thinking and he will never act without thinking it through but when it came to me, he all looses all his senses. So when he shouted at me for being a fucking idiot it was surprising for those who witnessed it. Very few people had ever seen Montana worked up in such a way that he shook with anger. Apparently he’d been working away for the last few weeks and having just got back in town; he learnt of my deal with G and he was not best pleased. I knew he’d be upset about it and I knew I’d be able to still keep him sweet but I wasn’t thinking clearly and so I did what no-one would ever dare to do; I hit him. I was then promptly dragged outside and pinned to the wall by a very angry Montana.

            Montana would never hurt me; he would scare me but never follow through with the threat. So I wasn’t exactly in fear of my life but he was still a force not to be reckoned with. I’d stared him coldly in the eyes and watched as he held me by the neck but didn’t make a sound. He just stared back, taking all of me in and trying to figure what the fuck was going on. It took just a few seconds for his face to soften and for him to realise what was wrong. He let me go then pulled me into him and held me close, probably fearing that I’d hit him again if he let me go. I’m ashamed to admit that I cried, I sobbed into his chest like an emotional fucking wreck. I couldn’t help myself, everything had gotten too much and my world didn’t seem like a good place to live in. Montana had a horrible knack of being able to make me show him my most vulnerable side and of making everything better, even if just for a moment.

            I’ll admit that getting into a fight with broken ribs is not the best idea, mostly because the next morning you’d just about be able to get out of bed. Luckily I had Montana to help me out this morning. We talked and he tried his best to make sense of it all, to justify it but even he was at a loss as to explain how something so cruel could happen to someone so innocent. It wasn’t even about me, not like I was getting my punishment for a crime I had willingly committed and yet it felt like someone else was paying the price for my sins. Guilt is a very nasty feeling, one I admit I don’t tend to feel and so when suddenly my body is consumed with this sickening sense; I find it very difficult to handle. So now I guess you’ve seen a different side of me, a softer side maybe and perhaps your opinion of me has shifted slightly. Now maybe I seem more human, more fragile and maybe a little more like you. Well here’s a friendly warning, don’t ever underestimate me. I am not this person that you may think I am, whether it is good or bad. Everything that you think I am, all that you think I’m capable of; is just the tip of the iceberg. I am a criminal, I have very few morals and I have killed, don’t you ever forget that.