(Dimmed bedroom, curtains closed, silence)

My eyes are puffy, my throat is dry and I can taste the cigarettes I must have smoked last night, the taste was still on my tongue. Stretching as my naked body was spread out across my messy bed sheets, letting out a loud yawn. It was morning. I opened my curtains to let the morning sunlight shine through and light up my once dim bedroom. I opened the window, fresh air came seeping through, I breathed it. I looked outside of my window for a few minutes, watching as mums were chasing after their hellish children screaming and shouting on the school run. I never want children. My neighbour Anne, she was gardening as per usual, she suffers from alstheimers. I believe gardening is her escape from it. It takes her away from sitting in her house, in her living room, on that old, dusty, brown armchair whom her family place her on with everyday check ups expecting her to sit there each and everyday so their lives are less hassled with the constant worry of her. Knowing she won't go far if she just sits there. Jason, across the road. Leaving his house, well his parents house, to probably go and deal some drugs to adolescent teenagers. Kids are hungry for drugs these days. He's wearing an all Nike tracksuit, blacked out air max and a red cap. Scary huh? 

That's enough of being nosey this morning. Time to get ready for the day.

(Leaves bedroom) 

I get anxiety walking through Brixton. It has its reputation of being 'rough' but people don't understand quite how 'rough' it really is. Just last week I witnessed a schoolboy, around the age of 15, still in uniform, get robbed for his phone with a gun to his head. I should have said or done something, but would a phone be worth the death of me or him? No. Everyone's to themselves, sure we see things and could stop it. But we don't. We like to keep ourselves to ourselves, we're anonymous. That's how I like it. 

(Enters cafe)

I ordered a bacon sandwich and a tea, typically English. I sat down in the corner of the cafe, next to the window. I was minding my own business waiting on my greasy, tasty breakfast. Just how I like it. There's a black man sitting next to me on the next table, I can briefly see him out of the corner of my eye trying not to blatantly stare. Why am I noticing him? I rarely notice anyone around here. We're just people. Clones. He looks nice, presentable. He has a good taste in style, his outfit must have cost a bit, he was suited and booted. He sat with a cappuccino I'm sure, reading through a newspaper. Without realising my full attention and view was completely on him, my head was turnt and I was staring, I wasn't even blinking. Suddenly he looks at me, my eyes open wide and I Quickly turn my head and glare out of the window pretending as if I was never even looking. He knew. I heard him chuckle to himself. I didn't bother looking anywhere else, my heart was racing, why? Next thing I know he's stood next to me. "Don't think I didn't catch you giving me the eyes" oh my god, he thought I was giving him the 'eyes'. Well, I was. But I didn't think it was obvious. How did he know that? "You look pretty, where you off to today?" He just complimented me...I don't know how to react, I'm not good with compliments. "Aw thanks, just came for some breakfast" as soon as I finishing replying to his compliment a waitress came over with my takeaway breakfast. I felt nervous and awkward around him, I had to go. I smiled and started to walk away, he caught up with me down the street, tapping me on the shoulder. "I didn't catch your name...or your number" what a slimy guy. It was sweet though, in a slimy way. "My names __ and my number is ___". He didn't hesitate to pull his phone out almost straight away, he took my number and that was it with a simple 'bye'. 

(Park bench)

It was now 2pm. I was sat in my local park, on a bench that was still damp from the rain last night. I was thinking about him, constantly. Since I met him. What was this? It was weird, perculiar. He had some sort of hold over me...

(1 year later)

Anne, she passed away today, this evening. Heart attack they said, only this morning had her flowers blossomed and bloomed into bright, exotic colours. She never got to see how wonderful her efforts really had become. Her family failed to show up for a few weeks, I think neglect was slowly breaking her heart although she could barely remember or recognise them. Jason, he got locked up about 3 months ago, his house got raided and turns out his parents were growing the canabis. They blamed him though, they had too much to lose where as their son was a nobody, he just did their dirty work. Turns out that mothers hellish kids got taken into care, she was abusing heroin, a lot. A few months ago her children, who were moderately young started walking to school by themselves, unsupervised. They no longer screamed or shouted at such early morning hours. 

Me? Oh yeah, me and that 'guy' got together eventually. He was a gentlemen, a real gentlemen. Everything was perfect for the first couple of months. We went on dates, he introduced me to his family. We were even looking at moving in together. That all changed though when I learnt he was one of the biggest gangsters in greater London. He'd murdered, tortured and scammed money out of people. He had weapons. Deceiving huh? Anyway. Once I learned all of this, I kept my mouth shut for a while. Too scared to ask or question him and his business. We got into a huge argument one night, I was playing my cards right I thought, he wouldn't dare touch me. He cherished me, adored me. I was so badly wrong, it resulted in 6 knife wounds, 2 black eyes, a bust lip and internal bruising all over my body. He dumped my unconscious body at a curb, careless like I was a slab of meat that had gone out of date. A kind woman who's name I never found out, rescued me. Took me into a&e and I was there for 3 weeks. In hospital. Alone. No one knew. I was too ashamed of how I let this happen. I'm supposed to be a smart girl. They never found him either, he vanished off the face of the earth they 'stated'. Nothing to his existence or proof was left behind. He knew how to trace his steps. 

I now live in Germany. I have found a deserted and isolated, small village which is where I'm currently living. The doctors here wanted to section me under the act of mental health, I only went for my prescribed medication. But when they rejected that, that's when my schizophrenia made an appearance. I can't control it. I wish she was still with me, but I can't bring her back, she was only a temporary figment of my imagination, or in other terms. Schizophrenia. I would go back and meet her in that cafe for the first time, over and over again, she always knew I was so obviously looking at her, waiting on her bacon sandwich and tea. She was so real, to me. I boasted about being a top gangster, I thought she would think it was cool and that I could protect her. I can't protect myself. I don't even know how I got here. All I knew was the police wanted to know how I managed to get so hurt, 6 knife wounds, two black eyes, a bust lip and internal bruising all over my body. They found the case very suspicious. I never said much to them, I ran away before they could check my health records, being black in greater London these days also, the police always suspect something fishy with us black men. I'm all alone now, the voices are quiet. I can't hear her anymore. I think I've forgotten her. Her name was Carl, her number was 1. There was only one of us, and that was me. I breathe us.