on his shoulder. He hesitates, his beady eyes

  still judging me. His arms tighten and he

  swings the wood at my face. I lift both my

  hands up and catch the wood. His swing was

  weak.

  His beady eyes widen as he releases the piece

  of wood. I toss the wood over him and back

  into the alleyway which echoes with the

  hollow sound of it landing.

  “Bad luck.” I say walking towards him.

  The tramp takes steps backwards and trips on

  rubbish bags that are scattered across the

  ground. He scrambles back up and continues

  to retreat.

  136

  I look into his eyes. He’s scared. Usually I

  would have walked away now but I want to

  make a point to this tramp.

  I clench my fist and swing it onto the side of

  the tramp’s face. My punch forces him to one

  knee, and then he collapses into rubble and

  rubbish.

  He stays down, squirming onto his back.

  “Don’t try and mug people if you can’t even

  fight.”

  I walk out of the alleyway and look along the

  street. There’s a building that looks as if it

  used to be a cottage.

  I walk towards the white building; it has

  wooden benches outside. There’s a wooden

  sign hanging above the door ‘The Mill’.

  Bingo, a pub.

  I walk in through the black double doors to

  stand in the doorway staring at the almost

  empty bar.

  I stagger to the bar. After tripping over my

  own feet and nearly falling, I make it to the

  bar to lean on it.

  The young female bartender looks up and I

  give her a wink. She stares at me and rolls her

  eyes, chewing her gum.

  “Can I have a pint of Lager please?”

  “Yeah sure. What would you like?” She

  replies instantly. Her voice doesn’t match her

  look.

  “The cheapest please.” I reply.

  She sounds very well-spoken and high

  pitched. She’s wearing a scruffy red top and

  137

  black trousers. She has greased-back brown

  hair in a ponytail and wears gold wrist chains.

  She pours out my pint and places it in front

  of me.

  I stare into the pint, watching the bubbles

  rise to the thin white cloud-like froth.

  “That will be three pound…”

  She speaks but I cannot hear the price so I

  hand over a five pound note.

  “Thanks.” She says.

  She walks to the till and brings me back my

  change.

  “Here you are.” She says as she reaches

  across the bar handing me my change.

  “Thanks.”

  I look down to the change and try to work

  out how much the drink was. My sight is

  double-vision still so I just slip the change

  into my wallet.

  I look up to stare at the bartender but she’s

  disappeared.

  I look around in the pub and there is nobody

  at all. How odd.

  I pull out my wallet again and open it to look

  at the photo of Tanya and the kids. I place the

  wallet next to my pint so that I can stare at the

  photo as I drink.

  After a few minutes, I hear someone walking

  towards me from behind the bar.

  “Who’s that then?” I hear the young

  bartender ask me in her quiet, posh accent.

  “Oh that’s my wife and children; Sammy and

  Alex.”

  “That’s so cute,” she replies.

  138

  “Only problem is, I haven’t seen them for

  four years.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry,” she sounds sincere.

  “It’s fine. I don’t know why she left or how -

  or if someone is responsible.”

  “What about the police? Did you contact

  them?”

  “Yeah but they stopped searching after a year

  or so.”

  “Oh my god, I’m so sorry to hear that.”

  “Yeah; I don’t ever give up hope.” I pause to

  hear silence. “I see them in my sleep at least.”

  “Just think of the good times.” The girl tells

  me. “I did that when my Mum died a few

  years ago.”

  “Oh I’m sorry to hear that.” I say.

  “You just have to move on don’t you?” she

  says, shrugging her shoulders. “Enjoy your

  drink.”

  I watch her walk away and pick up my glass,

  which is empty. I sigh.

  I think about getting another pint but I

  would much rather go home and drink

  whiskey by myself.

  I leave the pub and walk back home to

  Mulberry Lane.

  I turn onto Mulberry Lane and down the cul-

  de-sac. All the homes match the light out in

  the night skies, excluding the stars of course. I

  walk along the pavement and turn to crunch

  my way up the gravel path.

  I get to my front door and search my pockets

  for my keys. Where are they?

  139

  I check my left trouser pocket, then my right.

  I tap my chest to see if it is in my shirt pocket.

  With no more places to check, I must have

  lost them on the way home or on the way to

  the pub. Shit.

  Drearily, I remember my back pockets. I tap

  my right buttock to feel a piece of metal in my

  back trouser pocket. I dig into my pocket and

  pull out my front door key.

  I really need to get a key ring for this

  bastarding key.

  I open the front door and walk in to the cold.

  I look to the open garage door. I swear I shut

  that? The basement door is also open fully,

  revealing the dark inside.

  I walk into the kitchen and pick out another

  bottle of whiskey. I decide I’ll not use the

  glass after a few shots so why bother?

  I undo the bottle and throw the cap on the

  kitchen floor.

  I walk into my sitting room and slop into the

  arm chair. I pull out my wallet and open it up,

  staring at Tanya and the kids again. I swig

  from the bottle as my eyes begin to grow

  heavy; they release my tears. The tears stream

  down my face and gather on my eye lashes,

  making it difficult to see the picture in detail. I

  can only see the blurred outline of Tanya and

  the kids through all my tears.

  How did it all go wrong? Did Tanya leave

  me? Was she taken from me? These questions

  run around in my mind at least once a day. If

  there was a way to bring them back to me, I

  would do it. Absolutely anything.

  140

  After around twenty minutes of drinking and

  crying, I begin to feel nauseous and heavy. My

  body feels numb; my mind is blank with the

  only thought being Tanya and the kids. I drop

  the half empty bottle of whiskey on the floor.

  I’ve wasted more whiskey.

  My eyes force themselves closed and before I

  know it, I’m asleep.

  141

  Survival

  Killing For Your Love

  Chapter 25

  I’m running into darkness, unaware of any

  direction.

  I have been accused of murder. I have been

  implicated in the disappearance of Lizzie and the

  kids, not by the Police but by a gang who are

  hunting me down. They are a gang sent by Don

  I believe. Since that night with Don accusing me

  or ‘warning’ me as he called it, there have been

  people watching me without a care for me seeing

  them. The time has come though to run…

  Chapter 24

  “Get out my house!” I shout at the bald-headed

  man standing in front of me in my own house.

  He does not speak and instead smashes my glass

  table and my TV with his metal bat.

  He corners me, smashing my living room to

  pieces with his bat.

  “Stop!” I bellow again, but he ignores me.

  As he turns away from me, I run towards him

  and dive onto his back which pushes him onto

  the ground. He keeps hold of his bat and tries to

  stand up with me hanging onto his back.

  Shrugging me off, he gets to his feet and hits me

  on the back with the bat.

  I try to shrug off the pain and stand up but he

  swings the bat at me again, hitting my arm and

  forcing it into my ribs. I manage to stay

  142

  standing even though my arm is lifeless. I wait

  for him to swing again. And he does, smashing

  the bat into my rib cage, knocking me onto the

  sofa.

  I struggle to catch my breath as he hits me

  again, this time on the shoulder. Wincing with

  the pain I shut my eyes and feel a sharp pain on

  the arms cocooning my head.

  I look at the man who stands above me as he hits

  me with his bat. He grabs me by my jacket and

  throws me onto the ground and he kicks me. I

  spit blood and try to stand.

  The bald man throws his bat aside and punches

  me in the face and stomach repeatedly and then

  he tosses me into the smashed television.

  There’s an ornament on the floor next to my

  feet, I grab it in desperation. The bald man

  charges at me to hit me again. This time I dodge

  the punch by pushing off the television and its

  stand to get behind the man. It works better than

  I expected, he punches the wall and I hit him on

  the back of the head with the bulky ornament.

  The man grunts and falls into the wall, allowing

  me to hit him on the back of the head, again and

  again until he flops onto the ground with a thud.

  I stand over the man as he turns onto his back to

  look up to the ceiling. I pick up his metal bat and

  walk back over to him.

  I stand over him, staring. His eyelids flicker as

  he looks up at me.

  “Who sent you?” I ask.

  The man shakes his head.

  “I said who sent you?”

  The man shakes his head again, forcing me to

  smash his head with the metal bat. Unaware of

  143

  my strength, I hear a crack. I look down to his

  face, his eyes are open but he has blood oozing

  out from the back of his head…

  Chapter 25

  I hide in the dark woodlands and anticipate an

  attack. I don’t know how many men are after me

  and chasing me at this moment but I will fight

  for my life. These men could be responsible for

  Lizzie and the kids. I know Don thinks I killed

  them.

  I hear leaves rustling and branches snapping in

  the distance. I look into the woodland but I

  cannot see anyone.

  After a few moments of hiding, I hear a branch

  snap directly behind me but I cannot turn

  around to see, I can’t risk being heard or giving

  away my position.

  I concentrate on trying to slow my breathing

  down.

  I look ahead and see three men standing in a

  line. They’re all wearing black trousers and

  hoodies, each of them clutching a crowbar.

  “How did we lose him?” I see one man’s breath

  in the cold air as he speaks.

  “Let’s leave him out here. We can wait at the

  tree line and get him when he comes out.”

  “No, this is just a warning.” I hear the third

  man say. The voice is one I recognise. Don is

  here with them.

  I knew he’d be involved in this.

  The three men turn and walk in a line away

  from my position.

  144

  They disappear into the darkness. I continue to

  wait, just in case…

  Eventually, I walk towards the woods exit. I am

  still on edge, holding a thick branch as a weapon.

  There are car lights ahead of me, facing away.

  There are four men this time.

  I approach them with stealth. I walk up a gentle

  slope which appears to be someone’s garden and

  crouch behind a bush to try and hear their

  conversation.

  “He got away, but we can get him if he leaves

  the woods,” Don says.

  “No it’s fine, as you said, he needed a warning.

  I’ve been gathering evidence on him and I have

  evidence that he’s been up to no good,” says the

  only man not wearing a hoody.

  “Right, so are we leaving now?”

  “Yes.” The man says, he’s obviously the leader,

  but who is he?

  “Okay Mr S.” Don says to the leader as he takes

  the hood off his head.

  “Thank you for tonight boys. I will be in touch.”

  Mr S says.

  All four men get into the car. Don and Mr S sit

  in the back whilst the other two hooded men get

  into the front and after a few seconds, the car

  drives away. Without the car’s lights, the area is

  in darkness. Now I’m alone.

  What is Don doing? And who is Mr S?

  I look at Tanya as we lie in bed together. I

  stare into her eyes and she stares into mine.

  145

  I say: “I love you.” But she doesn’t respond.

  She doesn’t even acknowledge it.

  “I love you.” I say again. And again, she

  doesn’t respond.

  I shout: “I love you!” She again ignores me,

  continuing to stare at me. Her pupils dilate.

  Her eyes begin to redden. Her chest pulsates

  quickly, in, out, in, out.

  I sit up and look at her. She continues to

  stare at where I was lying.

  “Tanya?” I ask her. I sit up and feel her skin.

  Her skin is burning hot.

  “Oh my god, Tanya you’re boiling.”

  She doesn’t respond.

  I try to move her onto her back but she

  won’t move.

  “Tanya we need to get you to hospital.” She

  ignores me again. “Tan!” I shout. This time,

  my voice is heard. She slowly turns her head

  towards me. My voice echoes in the room.

  The room itself becomes smoky. Tanya

  begins to cough when all of a sudden, she

  bursts into flames.

  “Tanya!” I shout again.

  I take a deep breath, inhaling the smoke from

  her body which sends me into a coughing fit

  which I can’t control.

  Her skin turns to ash and continues to burn

  until she disappears.

  All of a sudden I wake up on my bedroom

  floor, choking. The realisation kicks in: It was

  another nightmare about Tanya.

  146

  However, I have moved, I fell asleep on the

  chair downstairs and I must have sleep-walked

  upstairs.

  I sit up and look to the door where smoke

  slithers into the room through the gaps in the

  door frame. The smoke enters the room and

  crawls along the floor towards me to then

  circulate and rise up into the atmosphere.

  Fuck! The house is on fire.

  I run to the door, as I grip the door handle it

  burns my hand. My natural reaction is to let

  go of the handle.

  Shit it’s hot.

  I grab my duvet and use it to grip the handle

  and open the door. A mass of smoke blows

  into my face, taking my breath away. I fall

  onto the ground, choking, just as I did in my

  dream.

  I try to stand but I’m weak and still drunk. I

  get back to my feet, ducking down. I leave my

  room and see light coming from downstairs.

  I run to the stairs whilst ducking down and

  covering my mouth and nose with my hands,

  which has no real affect.

  I get to the top of the stairs and stare down

  to the flames in the hallway. The heat burns

  my face. The heat forces me to shut my eyes.

  I’m stuck up here, what am I going to do? I

  stand up and overbalance. I trip over

  something at the top of the stairs and I fall,

  hitting my head, back and shoulders on each

  step. I land on the bottom step into the wrath

  of the heat.

  147

  Flames surround me. I open my eyes and

  look through the thick flames block the front

  door. The hallway is consumed by flames and

  smoke. The ceiling is already blackened with

  streaks smudged across it. The wallpaper has

  crinkled and peeled off leaving it hanging off

  the walls.

  I look to the top of the stairs to see the

  brown bear from the basement at the top of

  the stairs, that was what tripped me up, how

  did it get there?

  Feeling woozy, my vision closes in on itself. I

  force my eyes to focus and push myself up off

  the bottom step. In the sitting room,

  something odd catches my attention. On the