Silent Screams: Routines

12:01 am.

The light sign of the shop hums monotonously, like a song. My song.

I stare at the bottom of my teh tarik glass. A fly has accidentally fallen inside and is struggling to wriggle out. Accidentally by me.

The mamak workers don't really notice me. Like zombies, they run to and fro attending to their annoyingly loud customers, only stopping to see who scored the goal on the big screen. They don't care for conversations, heck I don't think they want to. They only care of what I want and how quick I want it. All they know is I come here every night asking for the same glass of teh tarik. Every single fuckin routine night. My worthless nights would be, well worthless without it. It helps me withstand the inner screaming.

In the sea of worn out plastic tables and chairs, drowned in a crowd I feel right at home with my own loneliness. I watch the others yak and bellow out laughters all night long. Their stupidity comforts me.

Shit there she goes again. She's staring at me again from the other table. None of her other friends, or boy friends, notice me. Guys don't bother me. Only the girls stare at me with a caution in their eyes.

What is it they say? Girls can sense evil? Hotak kau.

I don't blame her though. I'd stare at me too if I had a lump-of-brainless-mass-sorry-excuse-for-a-boyfriend. Fucker just seems to be more interested in the football game and chatting with his other rempit friends. With their strong macho built bodies, they overlook my small figure. Heh bodoh siot.

Football. What's with rempits and football? Man.

I pry out the fly from out of the glass and hold it between my fingers.

Such an insignificant fly, so small and so weak. Yet you come with so much dangerous pathogens and bacteria that you bring even the most bulky tough rempits to their knees. Cho-fuckin-lera. That's right my little friend. Only you and I know that the weak can be strong as well. Much stronger than we seem.

I pinch the fucker to death. Its juices crawl through its pores and broken abdomens, like worms from a bad apple. It wriggles no more.

Geli siot. Why do I love doing that?

Is she flirting with me with her eyes? Fuck... A cold breeze chills my spine and gives me goosebumps. Before long the waiter approaches me, as if knowing the time.

The zombie mamak asks for 90 cents. They always change the price. Twats. As if I don't know. But then again I don't care. I pay the man and leave my greasy table. He wipes it, making it greasier.

1:02 am

End of the late show. Time to head back home. Time for some Solemn Peace. With my little pet project. My stomach growls in pain.

Silent screams

Thank god it's Tuesday though it's still a long way from Friday. Still it's a lot better from Monday. God I hate Mondays. Not hate like the way that stupid orange cat does. I hate it because it reminds me of who I'm supposed to be, who I pretend to be.

Dim lights soothe the crappy piece of hell hole I'm supposed to call the place I work. The monitor of my Computer is almost blinding me, had I not have been used to it by now. It is late and others have already gone back home. I stare at the scar of my knee, it bleeds softly like a dripping sap from a large tree. Injury from sports. It's supposed to have dried up by now but somehow it keeps on bleeding. I stare a little longer, fascinated by it. That which I love most, flows through my very own body.

The pain starts to scream again deep within my belly. It hurts so much but I mustn't show my weakness in public. Not here. Not now. Not when others will raise suspicions of me. They'd think I'm a monster. Spawn of the devil, not like the Geeky wimp that I portray myself to be. Greg and his writing they'd say. I'll gladly let them keep it that way.

I must log off and head back home now. Dinner awaits home and I mustn't let it rot before I quench my hunger. God I love burgers.

I pinch my stomach and squint my eyes, trying to withstand the screaming inside. I must hold on for a while. I must remain normal.

Still, I think sooner or later someone's bound to know. Stalking me to wherever I go. Like my own shadow.

Ok fuck it. It's time to go home.

The pain. It screams. I must feed soon.