Janitor's Night

The alarm started ringing again. It didn't matter to him. Not because he was used to it.It was Monday. And Monday was the end to a nice weekend. Pity that he did not do much this time. Just the bar and a couple of guys he played poker with. By Sunday night he had a bad hangover which he tried to compensate with some sleep. It didn't work. So here he was. Monday morning.

After the ablutions and the itchy shave, he picked up a suit and tried it on. It had been a few weeks and he was afraid that he had put on some weight. The suit was fine. The shave , not so much. Having creamed the cuts and adding the bandage he decided he wasn't up for this look. So, he removed the bandages. Now he looked more like a daredevil. He contemplated the dullness and thought about putting the bandage back on , but then decided to sport the look instead.

The phone call had come an hour earlier. The man on the other end was calm. He just wanted the service. Trash taken care of. And that's what he was good at now. Between the divorce and alimony and not being able to stick to a good job , this was the only thing Frank knew how to do well. He did not want to tell his 8 year old daughter what he did for a living , and he hoped he would never have to.No one wanted to realize that the father was a garbage disposal guy.

He walked into the Hotel Bar and ordered his favorite drink. Scotch. Fine. On the rocks. It didn't bother much to Frank that it was already 10 am. The drinks were a way to keep him off the 'life' he thought he was leading.He glanced around and found him. The man was sitting next to a briefcase and was wearing an overcoat and a fedora. Very chic, Frank thought to himself.Very Sherlock Holmes.He walked up to him and offered " Hard day isn't it ? Too hot." The flicker of recognition came as quickly as it vanished. The man said nothing. He simply walked away after paying for his drinks.

Frank watched the stranger walk away and then saw the briefcase still lying there. He thought for a moment and then decided to check the briefcase.People generally don't realize how disturbing, trash can be.And they certainly don't realize where it all goes.Its very convenient for everyone to just sweep it under the rug. "Hmmm", Frank sighed as he checked the case and uttered a grunt of dissatisfaction.Frank hated his job. He turned to the only friend he had.Alcohol.

He looked at the photographs. A sense of family .Something he never had. Something he desired. A family, A loving and caring mother and a helluva father. He took another sip and rested his eyes on the beautiful thing across the bar. Gathering his old school charm , he walked up to her and asked, " Would you like a refill ?" Drunk women were the best. They didn't know what was happening and the mornings would never hear the blame of using and pregnancies. The 'walk of shame' was theirs to bear.

After an hour, Frank decided it was time to take the next step. He invited the woman, Yana to his room for a little nightcap.Yana looked uncomfortable. The untanned finger on the left hand told tales about a ring but never the scoop. Frank decided not to ask. He threw the offer on the table. There was a moment of hesitation, but before he knew it he had her in his arms and headed towards the room with a silly grin on his face.

The room was dimly lit as according to the mood. Frank blurted " Are you married ? Am I going to be in trouble later ?" Yana smiled her perfect lips out. " No , there isn't going to be any interference. Now come closer." How the next 4 hours went by , only Frank knew. Yana got up and suddenly turned around and asked.... " do you snort ? , or do anything else? " It had been some time since he had succumbed. He thought about the white powder which had been the bane of his life. But, now he was clean. He calmly shook his head and laid back into the bed.

Yana was rummaging through the outer pockets of his bag. She found the cylinder and raised an eyebrow as she showed it to Frank. " If you don't do coke , what the hell is this? I know it's for snorting. " She smiled slyly as she moved across to the room to where her handbag lay. Calmly she took out the packet and spread out the white powder on the table. Using the thin metallic cylinder she took a deep snort and for a moment it looked as pure ecstasy.

Frank was tempted.

No ! For his daughter's sake , No !

There were too many tears to remind him of the hell he had been through.He just calmly watched Yana dig in. Ten minutes later, she was swaying. " Ah! What the hell... " Frank thought, and took Yana in his arms. Switching off the lights he started kissing her on her neck and before he knew it, they were both naked ....


The alarm...

It was just loud enough for Frank. He took his watch and switched it off. He looked over the bed and saw her with her hair strewn all over the pillows. He watched her for another ten minutes.Then he got up. Washing his face and then drying himself, he sighed. Yana was looking beautiful in the shallow rays of first light. Shaking his head he went to the briefcase. Last night was last night, he told himself. Today I have to get back to work. He saw the photographs again. A family. That's all he needed. And yet he was never going to get it.Pity.

He stood up and looked around. Careful as not to wake Yana , he tiptoed across the room on to the sofa where she was snorting coke up her nostrils last night. He looked around and he found what he was looking for. The cylinder. He calmly went back to the liquor cabinet and removed his bag which was idly lying right beside it. Rummaging through it he found his tool. The Glock 17. His trusted companion over the past five years. He calmly screwed the cylinder on the muzzle. The silencer was necessary. Early morning even a pillow couldn't muffle the sound.He thought twice as he looked at Yana , calmly taking his pillow to reduce the splatter , pointed the gun at Yana's head with the pillow at the side.

He sighed.

The shots came in quick succession. He didn't miss a step. Putting the pillow on top of her bleeding head, he wiped his fingerprints from all over the room wherever he had been careless enough to leave any. He looked at the photographs once again. The same photographs that had been handed to him by the stranger at the bar. They showed him and Yana on a boat. A happy memory.Frank knew that questions had no place in his job. He was essentially a Janitor. Cleaning other people's mess. And that's what he was paid for. He looked at the bed for a long time before leaving and sighed.

What a waste !


Note: This is not my piece, it was written by my senior, I liked it and hence copied it...

happy bday

"Life is what happens to you wen ur busy makin other plans"

John Lennon said dis probably relating to the randomness of life which is so terribly lacking in logic dat v choose to name dem karma n destiny.
I wonder wen i think bout my dear friend wat life wud b widout him? wonder who wil b my sole guide in d matters of females, wonder wat il do wid d silence of his voice, wonder if il miss his humour or long 4 dat ever friendly tit bit of advice in d days 2 come. i wonder because i tried sayin gudbye bt cudnt at all.
Even now as i sit here pennin stuff down i can only remember him laffin at sum silly joke, or tryin 2 get d number o a random chic in a mall. i remember him throwin a gala party every tym v gt 2gether. i remember him turnin a particular female down because she dint support his football team(Man U). i remember his happiness in all d moments v wer 2gether.
Like a wierd joke book dat mks u laf, i can only remember him frm d happy memories v shared 2gether wen he ws alive. and js like v learn to live wid d randomness of life by givin it names of fate n destiny, i guess m learnin 2 accept his death by lettin go of d sadness n livin with the images of his happiness, his only memories, in my head.
Dey say life always teaches u sumthin. his death tot me sumthing 2. it tot me abt hw short and beautiful life really is. so hw can i say gudbye 2 sm1 who gave me so much? i guess i js cant cuz i feel he is alive as ever in dose precise images in my head n will liv wimme till i die. i guess i really cant say gudbye 2 him...
So i guess on d ocassion of his 22nd birthday i definitely cant wish him Happy Birthday bt i can n will say Rest in Peace dude...ROCK ON!!!

BloodStone

The night was silent n the cold light of the fullmoon washed over the silhouettes of 2 men standin in the graveyard by an old tombstone surrounded by wolves. There was no sound other than the constant chirping of the crickets who seemed desperately trying to whisper something into the ears of those listening n d gentle wind whistling away, quietly kissin d drops of sweat n blood clingin to his brow. All of a sudden the hollow night was pierced by the baying of the wolves, their raw animal instincts excited by d smell of the blood drippin quietly on d red soil of the grave. Even those gnawin away at the flesh of the dead looked up, their jaws drippin with blood, yellow eyes shining in the pale moon light, at the wounded man, savouring the meal to come.

"What's wrong, Brother dearest?", sneered the tall man, with a wicked glint in his eyes, his voice reduced 2 merely a whisper, "Can't beat ur own blood n bone can u now?".

With a savage growl, the wounded man made a weak attempt to pounce at the taller man but failed n landed face first in a pool of blood. He felt drops of rain start to hit his bleedin body, coldly numbing the pain, the sweet taste of blood mingled with water now slowly trickling down his scarred face to his mouth. Summoning his last ounce of strength he got up.

He coughed up blood into his open hands, the pain slowly numbin his brain, fogging his vision, n said, "Why don't you kill me already? Ease my pain will you..You have already killed all of my kin..Atleast those still loyal to me anyway..Why spare me? Is it because I m your brother?"
With an angry snarl, the taller man leapt at him, pinned him to the ground, his fangs inches away from his face n spoke in barely a whisper, "Don't be under that misconception brother. Family means nuthin to me now."

The man's face twisted in a satisfied smirk. "You are as naive as ever. You'll never have it brother. It was never meant to be yours. Father had seen the hatred in your eyes and made sure you never did...."

"ENOUGH!!!", screamed thre man n as quick as a flash ripped the still beating heart out of his body. "He's all yours.", the hatred in his eyes shining as he rose from the mangled body of his now dead brother. Licking his fingers, he watched his wolves pounce on him, tear him to shreds n devour him whole, his face still twisted in that satisfied smirk.

His mouth curved into a wry smile. He looked up to the moon, feeling the rain hit his face, opened his mouth n let out a cry so haunting dat it froze the marrows of those listening n suddenly with a gasp she woke up, panting.