The ‘Night Shift’ Victims
It’s two o’clock in the morning and Liam is awake; drowsy cosy and warm, lay next to his wife in bed who’s sound asleep. Their family cat is lay by his feet insulating their warmth and is purring while she dreams.
Liam leans out of bed trying not to move and disturb his wife or the cat and reaches for his phone. He does so with haste, its below freezing outside and the rain is lashing on the bedroom windows. Flashes of lightening illuminates the drawn curtains. Its still cold in the bedroom. He clicks on his phone as it bursts into life casting light that stings his eyes in the otherwise darkened room. Liam checks the time- two AM on the dot. Forty minutes until he must get out of bed and get ready for work. He starts at four in the morning at a local supermarket, located fifteen minutes down the road from the apartment where he lives with his wife. Liam dreads getting out of bed and getting ready for work especially in this cold and bleak weather and then that walk to work in the down pour. The only motivation being that be finishes work at half nine and has all day to catch up on sleep and make some plans. But for now, that seems a life time away and all he can think about is the terrible weather and getting absolutely soaked through and having to work in such state. Liam’s mood plummets as he lays still, thinking over the miserable weather, the cold temperatures and whatever nonsense awaits him at work; short staff, late deliveries, managers getting on at him. A plethora of irritating and uncomfortable scenarios whirl around his head. Forty minutes of sleep is going to be impossible now. All Liam can do is cuddle up to his wife and cat and lay in warmth and serenity until his alarm clock sounds and boots him out of bed with a much needed jolt.
‘ I could maybe take a Valium or better, just a half, Liam thinks to himself. Should get a half hour more kip in once takes effect.’ It is tempting no doubt but for what? ‘I definitely wont want to rise out my pit if a take a sleeper’. Liam decides wisely against it. A large coffee would suit the situation far better. Liam jumps out of bed before he can give himself ample opportunity to think up an excuse as to stay in bed and maybe even forget about his shift.
Quietly as a church mouse, Liam swings on his night gown and pyjama bottoms and stumbles in the dark to the kitchen where he flicks on the light, fills the kettle half full and clicks it on. He reaches for a tub of medium Roast, high potency coffee and dumps two heaped tea spoons of instant coffee grounds into a large mug. He rubs his stinging eyes, still sensitive from the dark and sleep. Liam is aware of every nip of cold on his body as he stands and stares through the boiling kettle…and it keeps on boiling. While waiting on the water to boil and through feeling cold and low in mood, Liam goes to the bathroom while he waits. Its so cold, Liam swears he can see the steam rising off his piss as it hits the toilet basin. As soon as he hears the kettle click and the water boil, he forcibly stops his morning pee to attend to his coffee and get warm. He washes his hands briskly and attempts to dry his hands on an already damp and cold towel hung on the dormant radiator. The sensation is unpleasant. He briskly walks to finish making the coffee that will hopefully remedy his low mood and freezing hunk of flesh, better preparing him for the mundane early morning. Liam picks up his mug and takes a seat on the cold couch settee’. He wraps a blanket that hangs on the back of the couch round his shoulders and he holds his mug in both hands in an attempt to draw as much heat from the beverage as possible. His mind is distant and mood low. He blows gently on the coffee and begins to drink. The warmth is noticeable as soon as the liquid hits the stomach. Things are looking up slightly. The coffee seems to be bringing a better perspective on the things to the forefront of Liams mind and he’s finally glad he passed up on chewing a half of a Valium. Liam begins to wake up nicely.
Not so Far away on the desolate streets, in a more than lively house…
Kurt, Kayjay, Lou and Script are all sat round a small dining table in a brightly lit kitchen. Kurt is smoking on a large joint of weed, Kayjay, sporting a black ski mask, is rapping to a beat that’s playing from a compact disc player sat on the kitchen unit while Lou is clipping her toe nails sipping tea and Script is chopping out some white lines of cocaine and smoking hard on a cigarette. Script bends down to sniff up the lines he cut, doing so in an exaggerated snorting action, making sure everyone in the room is aware he’s sniffing some gear. He jumps up after snorting multiple lines, takes a gulp out of a tin of stale Special brew beer and begins to rile up his mates in the kitchen. He gesticulates his hands wildly while instructing everyone to get ready to hustle. “The Police will be settled in for the night now! That or they all be distracted by all the local floods in the area! Na is our time to get out there and make some P you get me?” he affirms with a question. Kurt exhales a bellow of smoke from his joint and slowly rasps
“I can’t be arsed Script, I want to pick me up a Maccie’s and get on the box, watch some Netflix or something, fuck it tonate, it’s brass fucking monkeys out er, he points sluggishly to the window looking out onto a quite road. The rain hits the window loudly as the wind whistles through drafts in the window. Everyone in the room looks up with faces sullen and hopeless with the exception of Script of course.
“That’s easy for you to suggest mate says Kayjay, but your buzzing off that ching! It gone two in the morn, I’m supping on these warm beers you’ve given me and I cant be bothered.” “The bizzzies will be about because of the weather and I cant be bothered getting arrested still!” Kayjay wines like a toddler.
“Aye, I’m buzzed up off the gear! I can afford the gear! Script swivels round leary and hostile, “if ya all did some fucking grafting, you’d all be bang at it! If we all chum up and head out on the job now, we’ll be back by the time big joes out of bed and we can all get served up with a bit of what we all want and have a fucking knees up!””
You’ll be needing your fix by then Lou” he interrupts her nail grooming and massage her shoulders. “ It will save you going out then to hustle right darling?!” Script slithers the words in a mock albeit, poor, high class accent.
“Aye, your right, as usual” Lou speaks through clenched teeth, bitterness plagues her words. I’ll be clucking then sure enough so lets go.” Lou blows off her toe nails that she’s just finished filing, and slips into a pair of worn out Nike Air Max sneakers. She takes a belt that was tied around her arm for a make shift tourniquet and threads it back round her skinny jeans. She pulls her sleeves down consciously to hide track marks on her forearms. She sniffs in and wipes her nose crudely on her sleeve and proceeds to tie her hair up into a short ponytail, her hair is black and heavy with sweat. “‘ill wash my hair later”, Lou thinks to herself but without conviction. She then pulls a fresh cigarette out from behind her ear and proceeds to ask script for a light. He hands her his spent but still lite fag end and she lights hers with that.
“Yea, I suppose your right lad”. Kurt perks up. Weed tends to make him somewhat bi-polar, certainly easy to manipulate when he’s stoned Script thought to himself- taking some mental notes. Kurt continues to drawl on “we can get a Mc D’s on the drive through on the way back. Breaky will be on then as well”. Need to re-up on the green too he thinks out loud. Lazy bastard stoners thinks Script as he bumps another key of coke. ‘All they want to do is eat, sleep and get stoned and while I’m out in the early hour, all weathers, grafting!’ He thinks to himself showing some signs of annoyance.
“Well this booze is fucking terrible to be honest with you Script. Why does your mam drink this shit?” “I could do with some decent Whiskey and a knees up in the morning. “Get shit faced and listen to some techno” Kayjay shouts then jumps up, downs the remainder of an eight percent alcohol pint tin of booze and pumps his fist in the air to some techno only he can hear.
“sound then lets go! Get in the motor.” Says Script as he pulls on a large black coat and ski mask. He reaches into a draw, grabs a Stanley knife and a kitchen knife and slides them carefully into his deep coat pockets. “Tool up gals and boys” orders Script.
Kurt pulls a smaller knife from his pocket but picks up a metal baseball bat that is lent up in the corner of the kitchen.
Kayjay’s sinister smile seemingly fills his now twisted and contorted face made to look more disturbing as his pulls up a hood that has an eye mask attached completely covering the upper regions of his face looking like an evil fly less a human. Kayjay pulls a handgun out his pocket, its worn, scratched and kind of old looking. He cocks to load it before gently and with finesse, placing it back into his pocket where his hand and gun remained.
“fucking bunch of gangsters aren’t you all. Will you use that when push comes to shove?” Lou forcibly asks kayjay gesturing to his hand and gun.
“You want to find out cat?” Croaks Kayjay who has taken on a seemingly alternative persona. Lou doesn’t seem arsed at all in fact she scoffs and blows out an exhale of smoke while she shakes her head in disapproval. “say less….you’ll embarrass yourself if you’re not careful you little thug”. Lous taking some risky jabs at kayjay. An armed kayjay but it is as though she can see right through all his bullshit.
Script watches on in amusement as Kayjay retorts “shut up you little Scag-head” Lou looks at him and tilts her head while putting out her cigarette in an already full ash tray. Its apparent that Lou isn’t scared of kayjay at all despite his easy access to arms. Maybe the dope numbing her feeling or perception of the circumstances.
{whistles to gain attention}
Script whistles at Lou in order to get her attention. She looks round and Script nods to a line of coke cut out on the kitchen unit for her. She need not be asked twice and she snorts the line in a heartbeat. He grabs her ass as she wipes her nose and looks at him with the innocence of a child. She whispers the words Thankyou and pecks him a kiss on his cheek. Script grins with satisfaction showing a gold tooth. “Right then, we ready? Lets get to work” “earlier we start, the sooner we finish and can throw down and relax”. Everyone nods in agreement.
Liam is warm and ready for work
Back in the darkened apartment not so far away, Liam has finished his coffee, he yarns lazily but he’s beginning to feel that coffee warm his body. He has a jolt of energy to shower and get dressed into his uniform for work consisting of the supermarket’s trademark polo shirt, black jeans and a company branded fleece. It wasn’t the most comfy of uniform but it was warm and that’s what mattered mid- January in the British East Midlands. Liam sat after his shower and drank another mug of coffee before tying his shoes on, pulling on a coat and kissing his wife and pet cat sweet dreams before he opened the door into the night. He made sure to double check the lock before he left, ‘never can be too careful, he thinks to his self’ knowing full well, some of the people most precious in the world to him lay sleeping in the apartment including his beloved cat. Their safety is paramount. And with the door secured and Liam feeling content, he placed the keys into his pocket and pulled out an air pod. He linked the air pod up to his phone and began playing a pod cast on motivational life hacks by David Goggins and Joe Roggan. Liam enjoyed listening to these podcasts on his way to work and while working the early shift. It kept him in a positive mind frame and encouraged him to better himself one day at a time.
Since the new year, Liam has made a series of new year’s resolutions which have recently become possible since he has recovered from a bout of mental illness and substance dependency. Now Liam is earning money and is in a stable condition, the world is his oyster, “work hard and reap the rewards like before” Liam constantly reminded himself and the podcasts only drove such positivity and new outlook on life.
Liam walks down the dark back street and across a bridge onto the still desolate main road that will take him to work. Desolate apart from the distant sound of a car with music thumping out, sounds like techno. The steady beat throbs and begins to get louder but there is no car in sight. Liam pays it no more mind, he throws up his coats hood to protect his hair from the rain and places the second, noise cancelling air pod into his ear. All there is now is the night, the rain and motivational speaking and a wet yet pleasant, brisk walk to work……
To Be Continued….
Date of Next upload to continue the story 17th January 2024. HerePost Views : 31