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Chapter 7

I know all the neighbours from the past they come and leave traces from their gore and their idiotic non expressions tell me not much but their mannerism do and there is not much left for me but to observe what a good time they are having with their illiterate children, The children do nothing all day but play at night their sounds are more affecting it is deeper as if they know something they shouldn't. I am now the observer of abuse and there is nothing I can do because no proof. I have no proof there is no evidence and that makes me feel thwarted because the thoughts from my own past come crowding and I fear I feel it and fear.

There is something in the air as if troubled by too much of someone the neighbour is everywhere and he is nothing to do with me. His daughter has the same name as myself and he is not the father he says but the granddad.

The childish laughter and then papa and then something silenced.

There is no one to ask this question what is going on? Why are those children in some kind of danger or trouble what did I do to not prevent it? The whole cause will start again and I am nothing and have no authority there is no one who will believe me.

This non person who has been incarcerated is not up to scratch someone without reason brain certainly but not sane. There he knows someone from the council he can have me locked up. The neighbour said so his reasonable cause of action sent me to feel someone who was a danger to me as well as to the children in his care. The fourteen year old daughter who had the two kids than is now mature and sometimes pretends to be her mother in order to kill gossip.

What hope does mankind have?

That we the people who must obey our conscience do not have any? When we want something however small we go after them as if they haven and we are the apple cart which spills into some cider then we frolic like mad until we cannot dance anymore and have to rest. So why come home to roast because there is nowhere to rest in. Well I have a few suggestions. A coffin is a restful place as well as this bed.

I am in this noisy neighbour's place he keeps on popping round. He seems to be following me round and around. Getting me nervy. When nothing but trying to eavesdrop and dropping smiles as if they want to noise around. Trying to peep and then making haste not to be seen.

He does not like me he said so he said my grapes off and my apples rotten. I do nothing.

Neighbourly pride is something hissing at me there is something wrong with me. I do feel it sometimes maybe it is me he fancied lets face it I am still not dead.

I think it is my imagination they glow with pride they have come and gone and then someone else might take their place. It is inside me this feeling this sense of being followed everywhere I go. That is, it there is no privacy left they just want to see. I meant them nothing and no harm but they seek and then someone as I go to the foot tunnel comes looking like someone from Turkey and I feel this is creepy.

To the bus stop. The man does not even nod he is just glaring as if on show himself his skin is scarred and he looks not out of place the one it is my house or yours and we have more house than yours.

Then when I calm down,

I am trying not to make a sound the noise says the neighbour is intense and he and his family have trouble sleeping because I work at nights. Not really work just potter around and about insomnia is one of the diseases

It is as if the woman inside of me has become a brunt of humour almost not human as if some sorry state of feeding is taking place but there is not much to sober up in something called life one expects this unkindness this jests because there is nothing I did wrong to put myself in this situation? That I chose the wrong side they said. I choose that side because there is hope on that side and their beady eyes go red again that they feel betrayed.

Sometimes because the trouble is when one is used to working night and day is never enough. I am without any funds but the terrible secret is that when the family say speak to us say what you think and feel they then silence me forever more as if I am a parrot which said the wrong thing the embarrassment is such that they glow red with rage.

The thing was doing some work for the worthy mother and she could never do without me.

No sick pay.

No holidays except with them.

Live at home eat and cook at home.

Parents and family we adore you so much would not be parted with you for the world.

What did it matter when we do things wrong in the start we startle everyone for the beasts we have created. Our children now we frighten of more than the axe man more than anyone please protects from the nightmares them.

That an inadequate eventually a gay man seemed to want to please his family and got married to a gay wife. They happy to hide their secrets from the world did nothing but get worse they hated me for being naive and so they got it sorted how to enjoy our marriage is that we must now have it out when we do we sort of make her do the stuff like clean the bath and run the shop and that saves us money. Makes us money and we can live well and not do much at all. We hid our secrets well.

We say a kind word give her something add to the world the means to make her feel that she is useful and we do well out of it. When one wants to trap a animal that is how to do it. And of course pills to make her think less and she like a zombie did it better than anyone else.

How did he do this how did it happen did it bring them happiness did it bring them joy? Nobody knows the madness of a man who has failed to secure a good woman. When his sweetheart slept with the only thing, my wife is a pillow. Slept tight on it.

What about that girl who he robbed of the wits and had her delusions complex?

Left to the wolves so he and she could enjoy?

So, he got a taste for the real thing?

“God makes them small?”

“What did happen?”

The reality hits home does it not? That a pig like him can get away with it because he has more wit.

His many wives want to punish him well let them because he does not care anymore he wants to die. His punishment is his painful embarrassment that he had to come home and find all the filth he did not know existed. That his life was one of bliss and home and trusted that mother and father were pleasing to me. Of course he just hated to find out he did not want to seem to imposing into others. Well childhood abuse does not end in happily ever after there is that you see. When a adult is seen to be imp and good it is that no one senses the unhappiness no one knows what a woman feels because she can hide in order to out rodeo a man.

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