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He walked out; slammed the door which shook the whole flat. He left me as he always did, battered and bruised, I sobbed, I felt weak, I was afraid and I was lonely.
Let me tell you what led up to that particular day.
I never saw him apart from once at the end of every week – on payday. He usually wait’s for me to get home on Fridays in my flat. I’m always petrified of going back home to my flat on payday, as I know he would be there.
From when I get off the bus and walk the ten minutes back to the flat, I shiver, shake and perspire. It never ends well. He’s there for what seems like ages but in reality only fifteen minutes may have passed.
It was Friday, I got the usual brown envelope from work – my pay check and I waited at the bus stop. It was a half an hour journey to home, only one more stop and then it’s my stop. My stomach started to pain, my hands and my head started to perspire. I felt sick and was very hungry at the same time, I hadn’t had a proper lunch – I never did.
I work in an office building as a cleaner, my name is Adel and I’m fifty five years old. Never married, but had a son. I lived alone in a one bedroom council flat in a high raised building. The father of my son left me when he found out I was pregnant. I brought up my son Mitch… on my own; he’s twenty two and lives… not with me.
I walked up the dimly lit street, abandoned cars lay everywhere and yet again another car burned nearby. Not the best place in town, renowned for its drug dealers and the low lives that haunted the place. But it was home for me, it’s the only thing I had and the only place I could afford – free by the grace of the city council. I say free but it just comes out of my allowance.
As I approached my building, one of five tall buildings, I looked up and there he was, leant over the balcony, smoked and looked down at me, made sure I came straight up. The lifts didn’t work, they hadn’t done in years. I walked up ten flights of stairs before I walked along a long narrow pathway.
To one side was the wrought iron railing ‘The balcony,’ this looked out to the depressing car park and tonight’s entertainment yet again was a burning car. To the other side were the black doors to each of the faceless flats. I saw him in the distance as he puffed away and smiled cynically. He waited for me to get closer. The door to my flat was open, he had a key and I was too frightened to ever get the locks changed. If I had he would have just kick in the door and beaten me up more for doing so.
I’d had a particularly hard day that Friday and the smells of the cleaning fluids were much stronger around me. I was used to it and could not distinguish it from perfume. My eyes closed upon his sight and the closeness of him made me panic. I physically shook and I could not speak properly around him.
I walked at a laboured pace, I was so tired and had no strength. I was just a few meters away when he rushed towards me and grabbed my arm, he pulled me along and in through the door, he said, “Come on hurry up you stupid cow.”
He kicked the door closed behind us; he pushed me by the hold he had on my arm and then let go. He said, “Well where is it,” as he held out his dirty open palm.
I could see on his badly tattooed outstretched arm, the needle marks blatantly evident of his abuse of drugs. He always seemed on a low when he came to see me, well, not to see me but to extort my hard earned money.
I reached into my handbag and he said, “Come on hurry up, I haven’t got all fuckin’ day. And you fuckin’ stink, been rolling around in shit again ave yeah!”
My hand trembled as I reached in; I looked into my bag and saw the unopened brown envelope. I had just got hold of it when he lurched forwards and grabbed the bag. He put the cigarette into his mouth and got the envelope out himself. He threw my bag back at me and said, “Stupid cow here it is… couldn’t you see it! You blind fuck.”
I bent down to pick up my bag and he ripped open the envelope, he said, “So how much you got this week?”
He took out all the money and threw the ripped empty envelope in my direction and again he said, “Stupid cow! Is this all of it?”
It was all I made in the week; I never opened the envelopes, because I knew he’d beat me up just for doing that. He counted out the money then looked with anger at me; he came forwards and slapped me. I almost fell to the ground.
He said, “That’s not all of it! Where’s the rest you cunt, been drinking it away!”
I could not speak; I cowered and shook my head as if to say no. He asked again, “Come on then bitch, where’s the rest?”
He slapped me again and I fell to the ground, he was going to kick me so I brought up my legs to my chest and his kick landed on my shins. He wore hard cobbled boots, they cut me and my legs started to bleed.
He bent down and shouted in my ear, “Where’s… the fucking… rest?
I had my hands raised up across my face, I didn’t look up but just managed to say, “I only worked from Wednesday, I wasn’t well.”
That casino siteleri was a lie, although I was well I had bad bruises on my face from his last visit and I was too embarrassed to explain that to work colleagues.
He picked up a bowl from a table nearby, he threw it at my face, I managed to move but it hit the floor and smashed, a piece flew and cut my cheek.
He turned and said, “Lying bitch.”
He put most of the money into his pocket and just a small amount on to the table as he said, “Ere that’s yours, you’re fuckin’ lucky to get any this week. Shit! You had better make sure I get more next week, you hear!”
He lit another cigarette, drew a big breath on it. He bent down and blew smoke into my face, I held my breath but I still coughed from it. He stood tall over me; with one of his boots he pushed on my knees, to make me lower them. He then lightly tapped at my pussy and said, “Give that stupid job up, you should whore yourself out, you’d make a fuck load more money.”
He kicked my legs again, oh hell that hurt. He walked out slamming the door… that was Mitch… my son.
So after he left I cleaned myself up and had something to eat from what little he left in the fridge, just some odds and ends. I went to bed and stayed in my flat for the whole of the weekend. I tended to my wounds. If it were not the wounds, I would have stayed in anyway – I had no real life outside these four walls.
I can always hide the cuts and bruises on my legs; the cut on my cheek was not too bad. So Monday I made my usual miserable journey back to work. When I got to work I was told that two cleaners had left and another was off sick. Shit! That meant I would have to do much more… again!
But then I was told that there was someone coming in to help, just one person the agency had sent to cover the three that were not there, great!
I had just finished cleaning one of the ladies toilets and I walked out into the corridor, I was pulling out the trolley, I had my back into the corridor. I bumped into another person who also came out of the other toilets, the men’s. And we both bumped our arses together. We both stood up straight and looked at each other. He put out his hand and said, “Sorry… Keith… sorry.”
I had slightly wet hands so I just sort of clapped and rubbed them together and took hold of his to shake. I said, “Adel… probably my fault, I’m sorry.”
He stared at my face, must have seen the cut on it and said, “That looks nasty.”
I held a hand up to it and said, “O, it’s nothing just a stupid accident at the weekend.”
He lightly pulled my hand away and looked at it again and said, “Does look nasty, needs a couple of stitches I would say.”
I turned my face and said, “It’ll be fine I’m sure.”
We both grabbed our trollies and moved to the next toilets, as we walked we talked. He said, “I’m from the agency, helping out.”
I smiled and said, “That’s nice we are a bit short at the moment.”
He seemed a nice man, like me a little overweight, looked to be older than me but still this side of sixty I would have said. Through our chat I got from him that he was single and lived alone just like me. He had been married twice before but they did not work out.
He lived on the other side of town; he had a car but not his own place, a council place like me. He had two kids; both married, worked and lived abroad.
We ended the first day well; I got to know Keith and was a bit taken by him. Next day we chatted and even had lunch together, he had a large lunch box with three sandwiches, crisps and a slice of cake, yogurt and two cans of coke.
I had a cup of coffee and a very drab looking bread roll, all I could afford. He offered me his cake or at least a share of it, I refused but he insisted.
And that was it, a sort of spark had lit, and Keith made me forget about Mitch for a few brief moments in the day. I had not been with a man for a long time, would not even know how to go about it.
As a couple of weeks went by we became friendlier with each other, we even exchanged addresses, not as in written down but as descriptive locations, he knew of mine, but I was not sure of his. I looked forward to going into work and seeing him. On Mondays he always noticed the cuts and bruises I had, or if I walked a bit funny after the kicking Mitch may have given to me. I think he was getting suspicious as to something not being right.
Keith always asked about my inflictions, but I made some sort of excuse, I never told him about Mitch. But I could tell Keith never believed my stories.
Come the following Monday I did not want to go into work, the beating I got from Mitch on the Friday before left me in a very bad state. I could hardly walk from his kicking, and his punches to my arms left me so that I could hardly lift them.
I mustered up the energy to go in on Tuesday; I needed the money. And over lunch Keith and I sat opposite each other in our usual place, we chatted and he again commented canlı casino on a bruise I had on my chin, I said it was from a trip I had and landed into a cupboard, but I could see in his eyes he did not believe me. He asked why I was not in on Monday, I told him I had to stop in for a delivery. Again I don’t think I convinced him.
Then the next day, Wednesday, when it was just ten minutes before home time, I was putting things away in the store room, I did not realise anyone was in there. I turned the light off and was about to leave when a voice came from the other end, “Leave it on please, I’ll turn it off in a minute.”
It was Keith, I recognised his voice. I turned the light back on and I shouted out, “Keith, is that you?”
He shouted back, “Yes, I’ll just be a minute.”
I was going to leave but something made me stay. And as I waited where I was and turned, Keith walked out towards me from around the corner. He was dressed in shorts and a running top, trainers on his feet. I said, “You look… very sporty!”
I could see he was embarrassed, he said, “Oh, you still here.”
I looked at him up and down, I asked, “So you off for a jog?”
He lifted his head and said, “Yes… I need to burn off the lunches I love to have.”
We chatted some more and for those few brief moments he always made me feel like a person, not a punching bag. I began to like him more and more. He never made advances on me; he was always polite and gentlemanly.
I knew as soon as he went through that door and left, my life would be shit yet again – till the next day when I could see Keith again.
He went to walk past me, he dropped his head and said, “Excuse me, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I put my arm out and stopped him, he looked straight at me and I grabbed his face and kissed him. I pushed myself up against him and pinned him to the wall. I kissed him with passion and lust. I had not kissed a man for a long time and it felt nice when he reacted and kissed me back.
He placed his arms around me and hugged me tight, we kissed for several minutes, and my hairy pussy spoke to me in dribbles. I felt his cock getting harder as I ground my bulk on it. His hands travelled down to my arse and he pulled me closer, tighter and harder onto his hardened friend.
Then all of a sudden as if a mutual agreement had been signed, we both released each other and stood apart. We said nothing to each other, we wiped our wet slimy mouths and were about to go our separate ways.
He opened the door and left, I stood there, eyes closed and thought ‘What the hell did I do?’ Did I just end our friendship? I knew it had only been a matter of weeks, but I got to know and maybe not love, but felt like a deep friendship had been built, had that just ended?
Oh fuck, I really thought that was the end. I went home that night and half cried myself to sleep. My pussy cried for attention but I could not get myself to satisfy its need. I felt so low, I felt so drained and I felt like I had just lost the one caring person I had in my life, even though it had only been less than a month of knowing him.
He did not come in on Thursday, lunch was a sorry affair. I could not sit at the table we usually sat at. I quietly sobbed as I ate my meagre sandwich. That afternoon went real slow, I could not wait to get home and sleep, again I had lost the will to live. What had I done?
I knew roughly where he lived, but I did not want to invade his privacy and make myself look like an idiot or an overaged love struck woman. What would I say to him? I had no idea.
As I finished for the day and was in the store room, I stood just where I was before I kissed him. It made me cry out loud, for six or seven minutes I could not control myself, tears just ran and my throat closed like I was being suffocated. I had to sit down and calm down.
That night I hardly ate anything at home, I felt my world had crumbled around me and what made it a thousand times worse, was that it was Friday tomorrow.
I didn’t feel like going in in the morning, but I had to go if only to collect my wages. Otherwise I may not be alive on Saturday, due to having no money for Mitch.
I went in and what drove me on was the hope that Keith would be there. He wasn’t, that alone pulled my very soul from my body. I did my shift, I collected my wages and I went home in fear as usual.
I got off the bus and my fearing body went through its weekly routine, the shivers, the bodily shakes and the feverish sweat. My laboured steps towards my flat’s building took me past the rotting rusty cars.
I heard a noise, like a car door closing, I clutched my handbag tight. I didn’t look, my heart raced and I walked a bit faster. Then a voice, he said, “Adel, it’s me… Adel its Keith! Stop I want to talk to you please.”
I was so glad to hear that voice it ran a godly calm through my whole body; I stopped in my tracks and turned sideways towards him. He walked towards me and I smiled, it was him, it was Keith. And in my kaçak casino heart I was pleased, just so thrilled to see him, but, there was a big but in my head. I could not ask Keith to come up with me, Mitch would be there.
As Keith approached, he had a big bouquet of flowers in his hand and a long bag like a bottle bag in the other. He came up to me and said, “I’m sorry for not letting you know that I would not be in to work for a couple of days. It only came to me after I had left you that evening… you know after we kissed. It wasn’t anything to do with the kiss; I was just off on another site… sorry.”
He leant forwards and kissed me on the cheek, I was happy and sad at the same time. He said, “Can we talk for a minute.”
I looked up to my building and saw Mitch by my flat, he had his arms on the railings and I could see him puff his cigarette, he looked down at us. I turned to Keith and said, “Not right now… but on Monday maybe.”
He had noticed me looking up and saw I had an anxious look on my face, he too looked up and saw Mitch, Keith turned back to me and said, “Ah, you have company already I see.”
I quickly jumped in, I said, “Oh no, he’s not… he’s no one, just someone who lives in the next flat.”
He put the flowers under his arm and grabbed my hand, he said, “So, if there’s no one at home right now, I’ll only be a few minutes and then leave you alone to your evening.”
I really did not want Keith to come up; I knew that would only stir up more trouble for me. I held Keith’s hand but did not step forward, he looked back at me, pulled my arm and said, “Come on Adel, let’s get out of the cold.”
I screwed up my eyes and took in a deep breath; I squeezed his hand tight and thought ‘Okay, if Keith’s with me then maybe, just maybe Mitch won’t try anything.’ I apprehensively stepped forward and we walked. His hand felt nice and warm, a bit rugged, his fingers were thick but he seemed gentle as well.
My heart screamed out telling me that taking Keith up was not going to end well with Mitch there. As we walked Keith turned to me and said, “You’re shaking Adel!”
I didn’t look at him, I just barley whispered, “I feel a bit cold, sorry.”
We had reached the top of the stairs and I could see Mitch ahead, Keith said, “Don’t worry; we’ll soon have you warmed up.”
Mitch was leant on the railings with his arms folded, he stood up straight and as we got closer he said, “Got a body guard now have ya.”
I let go of Keith’s hand and said, “No, this is Keith, he’s a friend form work.”
Keith stretched out his hand and said, “Hello, I’m Keith, and you are?”
Mitch just stood there, did not shake Keith’s hand he just smoked his cigarette looked to Keith and said, “So you’re mum’s new squeeze!”
Keith lowered his hand and said, “I’m not sure what you mean… I’m just as Adel has said, a friend from work.”
The door to my flat was open; Mitch had already been in and helped himself to anything that may have been in the fridge as usual. He usually looks around the place to make sure I haven’t hidden anything from him.
I walked in and said, “That’s my son Mitch, come in… please.”
Keith walked behind me and Mitch followed through; I asked Keith to go and take a seat in the front room, and told him that I’d just be a minute to talk to Mitch. I walked into the kitchen and Mitch followed me. I could see a plate with crumbs on it; a half-eaten loaf of bread with the bread knife besides it and an empty glass on the table, Mitch had obviously helped himself.
I had my back to Mitch and he grabbed my shoulder and spun me round, he said, “Come on let’s have it.”
I put my handbag on to the table and started to take my coat off, he put out his cigarette stub on the plate and grabbed my handbag and he started to open it. I hung my coat up onto the back of a chair and as I turned round I saw Keith in the doorway behind Mitch.
Keith said, “What’s a nice boy like you doing with your mum’s bag; hasn’t anyone told you that’s rude?”
I could see Mitch grab the bag by the straps; he swung it around to hit Keith on the head. Keith stepped back and the bag missed him. Mitch stood upright and said to Keith, “Piss off old man, none of your fuckin’ business.”
Keith stepped forwards very close to Mitch, face to face and he said, “If you carry on like this, I’m going to make it my business.”
Mitch said, “Fuck-off old man,” and punched Keith in the stomach.
Keith was taken aback and he stumbled backwards, but then stood upright again and said, “Is that your best shot, sonny!”
Mitch threw the bag in my direction and quickly spun round and punched Keith in the face with his clenched fist. As he hit Keith, I shouted, “Stop it! Mitch just stop it!”
Blood ran from the side of Keith’s mouth, Mitch bent down and ran towards Keith and tackled him to the ground. He started to punch Keith in the head. Keith fought back with punches of his own; he struck Mitch in the face two or three times.
I did not know what to do, I was shouting at Mitch to get off. I went to pull Mitch off of Keith, but Mitch elbowed me and hit me in the face and I fell to the side. Keith saw and said, “You little shit, is that how you treat your mother.”
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