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Monthly Archives: February 2017

Nasty Piece Of Work

18 Saturday Feb 2017

Posted by stevenjohnno in poems, Uncategorized

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Tags

bully, jerk, knife, nasty, vulnerable

I live the lifestyle of the rich and famous.

Even though i have no money of my own.

I am 37 years old now and i haven’t worked a day

in my life.

I eat the rich and lay around all day.

Why should i work when other people can pay my way?

I was born under a full moon on Friday the 13th 1981.

My parents have told me that i was born bad.

And that i have been an arsehole ever since.

But i don’t care what other people think.

I just do what i please.

I just chop and chop until i bring them to their knees.

My devious ways got worse when i started school.

When i had a hundred other kids to pick clean.

They never knew what was happening.

I used every trick in the book to line my pockets.

I cheated at marbles and used stand over tactics.

And soon my pockets were overflowing with their lunch money.

And sometimes i even ate their lunch as well.

School can be good but i made it a living hell.

At high school i didn’t worry about playing games to get money.

I just used my fists and size to get what i wanted.

But fighting is hard work i used to work up a sweat.

Why couldn’t my family have money and live in the right

neighbourhood.

But y’know i kind of like being bad.

Fuck being good.

I have become a despised little jerk.

A real nasty piece of work.

After i finished school i was at a bit of a loose end.

I didn’t know what to do with myself.

I could get a job and make an honest living.

Or i could lay around smoking some weed.

Thinking of ways to spend other peoples money.

Why should i have to go to work and get my hands dirty.

My goal is to stay unemployed and retire when i am thirty.

At sixteen my hormones are raging

So i started to check out the local girls.

And they were giving me the loving eye.

But i knew that i had to aim higher if i was to reach my

objective.

Which is to make a lot of money without a lot of effort.

So i caught a bus (without paying) all the way to Caulfield

Heights.

Where all the rich people live.

I am all about taking i never fucking give.

They say love conquers all

But all i want is sex and some easy cash.

I just hope that i don’t end up with and empty wallet and a nasty

little rash.

At the local mall i take a seat in a coffee shop and wait for my prey.

And soon enough a girl walks in dressed up like a movie star.

She will do nicely.

She takes a seat across from me all ripe for the picking.

I give her my lovey dovey eyes a she smiles back .

She has taken the bait hook line and sinker.

And pretty soon we are sitting close together.

I move in for the kill hell bent for leather.

She tells me that her name is Cindy and that her family owns

half of the town.

And she offers to buy me a cup of coffee.

Well Cindy will pay for the coffee and a whole lot more.

I am going to reach into for soul and pull on her heart strings.

And i will not stop until the fat lady starts to sing.

I lean in close and tell Cindy a sob story.

About how i was kicked out of home and how i am struggling

to land on my feet.

Cindy sits there with her mouth open swallowing every word.

I cant believe this girl is so gullible

She offers to buy me lunch and provide a shoulder to lean on.

How can i refuse such an offer?

I eat and eat until i am ready to burst.

Just like a vampire with insatiable thirst.

I really am a jerk

A nasty piece of work.

Only sixteen and already i am on the road to ruin.

I don’t even try to be good.

Words tumble from Cindy’s mouth but i barely listen.

I am only interested in myself.

I just want to fill my pockets with ill gotten gains.

Who gives a shit for other peoples thoughts or pain?

Cindy is a sweet girl.

She deserves someone better than me.

I have’t listened to a word she has said.

All i want is to get my hands on her money

I will beg borrow or steal and bleed her dry.

I will leave nothing behind but an empty shell

Hello Cindy welcome to my hell.

Cindy stands up and says she has to visit the bathroom.

So why don’t i pay the bill whilst she is away.

She hands me her credit card and i go to the counter to pay.

But than i have second thoughts.

I walk out of the door and keep on walking.

As i walk down the street i reach into my pocket and pull out

a razor sharp switchblade knife.

Cindy will never know how close she came to dying today.

This time i gave her a break.

But the next time i want be so fucking nice.

Someone in my travels is going to pay a very heavy price.

So keep an eye out.

Because i could be headed your way.

If you see me coming.

Run as fast as you can

I really am a jerk.

A nasty piece of work.

Thanks for taking the time to read one of my stories and if you have the means could you please make a donation so i can finally reach my dream of becoming a fulltime writer. Thanks again Steven.

THE  END.

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Lowest At My Highest

04 Saturday Feb 2017

Posted by stevenjohnno in Uncategorized

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Tags

addiction, despair, drugs, family, help

I pick at a scab on my face until it bleeds

And my skin is a nasty shade of yellow

Most of my teeth have fallen out

The drugs are starting to take a heavy toll

 

I am constantly scratching.

And my clothes reek of urine and desperation

I would do anything for a shower.

And to fall asleep in a nice warm bed.

I cant remember the last time that i ate a home cooked meal.

But first i have to score.

 

But my pockets contain nothing but a few coins and a shitload

of lint.

All i can do is walk the streets and wait for an opportunity.

And i don’t have to wait long.

 

Just up ahead a lady is enjoying a coffee at an outdoor cafe.

I am about to ruin her day big time.

She has made a huge mistake.

She has left her handbag sitting on the chair beside her.

Just waiting to be snatched.

 

She sees me approaching.

And i act like an normal person just going about my day.

And the lady doesn’t see the threat and looks away.

Just then i run forward grab that bag and take off.

I am gone before she can even cry out.

 

I go to my spot beneath a bridge to count the takings.

A total of five hundred and twenty dollars.

Enough to keep me going for a while.

 

My local supplier is waiting for me with everything that i need.

A little something to keep the wolves at bay.

Another trip to my so called paradise.

As the drugs take over my body.

I feel myself flying as high as a kite.

But at the same time i am feeling mighty low.

I always feel the lowest at my highest.

Ashamed of all the crimes that i have committed just to feed my

addiction.

I hang my head in shame.

But i know that i will have to score again tomorrow.

 

My name is Owen and i am now 24 years old.

And i have been using drugs since i was thirteen.

My parents were constantly fighting hurling abuse at each other.

So i escaped to the local park

Where i smoked dope to calm my nerves.

And i drank beer to drown my sorrows.

 

Well dope and beer are still my companions.

But now ice is my drug of choice.

It takes me to another dimension another space in time.

When i take i live on the very edge of existence.

Like sliding down the edge of a knife.

That is my life.

That is Ice.

 

I know that because of my appearance that i stick out like a sore

thumb.

But at the same time i can be invisible.

People look at me with a mixture sadness and loathing.

To them i am just another harmless bum.

But i will strike like a cobra when i need to feed my gremlins.

 

And right now my gremlins are hungry.

Every minute of every day all i think about is buying drugs.

My muscles twitch and my pores release the night sweats.

I cant sleep at night because of the constant cravings.

Only the drugs can bring me some sort of relief.

 

The money that i stole is almost gone.

So i decide to visit my grand mother for a meal.

And maybe a loan that i will never re pay

Gran knows that i have a drug problem.

And she has tried to get me help again and again.

But i always tell her the same old bullshit ‘Don’t worry gran

i can stop anytime that i want’

I have told her that lie so many times.

That sometimes i even start to believe it.

 

When gran answers the door.

I cant help but notice the look that she gives me.

A mixture of love pity and hate.

But i don’t blame her at all i have let her down so many times

over the years.

 

We chat away about family and stuff.

But the conversation always turns to my addictions.

As gran talks i block her out.

I know that she means well.

But i don’t need a lecture right now.

All i need is some money to buy my drugs.

I have stolen from gran in the past.

And i will do it again today.

 

When gran visits the bathroom.

I sneak into her bedroom and rummage around looking for jewellery

and money.

When i find what i need i call out goodbye to gran and walk out the

door.

 

After visiting my supplier.

I go to my favourite spot under the bridge.

To satisfy my needs and wants.

As i fly above the clouds i cant help but to think about gran.

She deserves a better grand son than me.

All she wants to do is help but i keep pushing her away.

Again i am feeling the lowest at my highest.

This fucking Ice has really got a grip on me.

And it isn’t letting go anytime soon.

 

A few days later gran’s money is almost gone.

So i head off towards my last resort.

Back to the park that i first visited when i was thirteen.

In the back corner is the public toilets.

Where i give blow jobs for $50 a go.

God i am not even high but i am feeling mighty low.

 

I now have enough money to last me about a week.

I even buy some food and some clean clothes from the salvation

army.

Where i start talking to the girl behind the counter.

Her name is Melissa and she offers to help me in any way that she

can.

 

I thank her for the offer ‘But i don’t need any help’

‘I am just going through a bad patch’

 

Once again i lie to myself and to people who want to help.

 

About a week later i leave my spot under the bridge.

On my endless quest to find money and drugs.

I am thinking about my situation so i don’t hear a group of thugs

coming up behind me.

I remember getting king hit and laying on the ground being

repeatedly kicked and stomped on.

Thankfully i don’t remember anything after that.

 

I wake up in a hospital a few days later.

With a fractured skull  and eye socket.

A few broken ribs and i am bruised from head to toe.

 

I don’t get any visitors.

Everybody gave up on me years ago.

And as i lie in that bed my addiction is crying out for attention.

I need to get out of here and fast.

As i am looking around for my clothes and a way to escape.

A girl enters my room wearing my room wearing a salvation army

uniform.

 

It is Melissa the girl from op shop who is going from room to room

visiting the sick and the lonely.

She recognises me and tells me that her offer still stands

If i want help all i have to do is ask.

I tell her ‘Thanks but no thanks i will be fine’

 

All i can think about is Ice.

And how to get my hands on some.

I know that i need help but i need the drugs more.

I must have been hallucinating.

And to this day i don’t know why i said it.

But i looked at Melissa as she was walking out the door.

And i silently screamed one word HELP.

 

I spent the next six months in rehab.

Getting rid of my demons and addictions.

It wasn’t easy.

I almost walked out the door a thousand times

But i thought about my family and friends that i have let

down badly over the years.

Especially my gran who i love dearly.

 

I walked out of rehab clean and sober.

Ready to start my life all over again.

I will need to find myself a job and somewhere to stay.

But firstly i need to visit my gran and apologise and being such

a bad grand son.

 

But i have to make a small detour first.

I go to my favourite spot under the bridge.

And i start to dig.

About a foot down i uncover what i have buried there.

An old biscuit tin that contains my treasured items.

Amongst all my stuff is grans jewellery that i just couldn’t

bring myself to hock.

 

I hold that tin close to my chest and walk towards gran’s  house.

 

I knock on the front door.

Not knowing what to expect.

She opens the door and her eyes light up ‘Oh Owen i thought you

must of overdosed or something’.

I walk in and put the biscuit tin on the table.

And i tell gran to open it.

 

She is surprised  to see her jewellery inside “I thought i would

never see these again’

“They aren’t worth much but they mean the world to me’

 

I tell gran about my time in rehab.

And how i have been stealing from her for years.

She just smiles ” I know i have been waiting for you to clean yourself

up and be a good person again.”

‘Welcome back’

 

If you are having problems with drugs or alcohol.

GET HELP.

Thanks for taking the time to read one of my stories and now if you have the means could you please make a donation so i can reach my goal of becoming a fulltime writer. Thanks again Steven.

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