Black Poison

4. 'Faucet' ?

4. 'Faucet' ?

I think I relied on my phone. Completely and utterly. It was a way to pass the time, and pretty much my only form of communication. I used Skype to speak to friends and family back in England every once in a while, and I often ventured onto Twitter. But texting was the way to go, considering everyone had phones.

Texting was particularly the way to go when halfway through an arduous English essay. I often got teased in the class that because I was the only 'english' one that I should be the best. The teacher sort of ran with that as well.

I was describing something about To Kill A Mockingbird, the classic book we were studying. I had actually studied the same book in England, so it wasn't so hard. Cut a long story short a load of shit goes down with two kids in olden day America. I would never admit it out loud, but it actually was pretty good.

But the essay was disturbed by my phone. It was a message from Matt:

Come round. Urgent - M

That didn't sound so good. Matt lived on virtually the complete opposite side of town, so thankfully Tom was on our wavelength, and pulled up in his truck.

"Jump in," he yelled out the window, and I could see Jay beside him "let's see what's bothering the pussy."

Turned out Matt had texted them too, and in a flash we were coming to his aid. When 'urgent' was added to a text you dropped your shit and ran. Well, you ran purposefully to where you were needed.

We pulled up at Matt's house, he lived with his dad and older brother, but neither were in. Matt probably had the best house out of the three of us, it was fairly new, with large spacious rooms and windows.

When Matt opened the door his face was gaunt; like he'd seen a ghost.

"Cheer up buddy," Tom pushed past him "what's the big dealo?"

He pointed to the Kitchen. We entered and stopped still in our tracks. Matt's parents had beautiful long and lavish French windows in their kitchen. Did have. The panes were smashed, cracks radiating out to all corners of the glass.

"What the hell-" Jay started

"I was kicking a soccer ball in the garden and I just..." he trailed off, and Jay, Tom and I couldn't suppress our laughter any longer.

"It's not funny," Matt shouted angrily, as I wiped tears from my eyes, I was doubled over.

"What am I gonna do?" He moaned.

Once we had asserted ourselves we told him just to tell his parents, and in the worst case scenario they would go crazy and ask him to pay for it. That seemed to settle him a little.

He washed blood off his hand where he had - for some reason - tried to place shards of glass back into the window. He turned and grabbed a towel.

"Turn the faucet off then," said Tom "the sink will overflow."

"Turn the what off?" I asked. Tom made a dramatic show of of heading over to the sink and stopping the flow of water.

"Oh, you mean the tap?"

"No, I meant what I said, it's a faucet, or a spigot, but not some shitty English word."

"What do you mean? It's the English language, so they're all 'English words'" That shut him up for a bit, then he just started complaining again. I just blocked him out.

"Not very 'urgent'," Tom noted as we climbed back in his Truck when we were done. He was still laughing, just a little more subtly.

"Poor guy," Jay laughed too "he must of been horrified." That sent us into another wave of laughter. Imagining the look on his face when the ball careered into the window. Man that was funny.