5 - Revelations

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-November 23, San Diego CA-

When I woke up yesterday she was already gone, that early morning shift.  Sunday is my day off so I took full advantage—sleeping, TV in my boxers, leftovers—the whole nine yards.  I don’t get many days off, well one a week in fact, so Sundays were pretty much my lazy day.  I knew Rebecca would be off work around noon or one but I decided it best not to call for a movie or dinner like we normally do when one of us has a day off.

I’m sure she’d be exhausted staying up till one am with me then being up by six to get ready for work.  Deciding she probably was going to head straight home contacting her was out of the question.  The entire condom breaking and gruesome scene only I saw didn’t help.  I almost didn’t want to see here again—I’m ashamed.  She wasn’t ready for kids, I knew that, and I bet the last person she’d want fathering her child would be me.  She has so many better guys she spends time with—at least that’s what I’ve heard—true romantics, not the work-all-day shut-ins such as myself.

But that fat-ass of me was yesterday and today, well, there’s work.  As much as I want to take another day off to solve my hallucination issues rent in San Diego isn’t cheap and I’m not going to get any charity from my parents if I can’t pay up.  Living alone here is rough, 950 for rent, 200 more for food, gas and electric, then there’s the car, phone, insurance, suddenly I’m left with hardly a couple hundred for spending money and this money quickly goes away if the tips don’t flow—which sometimes happens, especially during the holiday season.  Thanksgiving’s soon too, that’ll hit my tips hard; no one comes in for two or three days then.  Then next month, December, is notoriously bad and the landlord don’t care if I get half as many customers and come half a grand or more short in my wages for the month.

Well its three-forty now, I start at four.  I already have my uniform on and am all cleaned up—ready to milk them customers for all the money they can give me.  I’ll need it to weather next month.  I go outside, now at my apartment complex there are a ton of parking spots facing directly at the building with a street behind it.  To the right is an actually parking lot with covered spaces for those who pay for more or extra spots.  My particular spot is lined up directly with my bedroom window with cars on either side. 

Since I knew Rebecca was coming over Saturday I parked my car across the street on the curb—something that’s easy to do during the middle of the day when everyone is at work—so she could have my spot when she drove up late at night, otherwise she would have never been able to park.  But my car isn’t alone across the street, that demon is on top of it—the front windshield is smashed in by his weight, one of the mirrors is broken off, and the trunk is bent open.  I throw my hands up—why is it always after my car? Again? Seriously?

I don’t even care how terrifying it is—I really don’t anymore.  This is enough.  I stomp across the street and yell at the beast shifting around on my car smashing the hood in further until one of the side windows breaks, “What the hell is your problem!”  It moves onto the hood, its sharp claws puncturing the metal, “I mean all you do is break my shit and try to scare me.  The damn girl I like didn’t even call after what happened!”

I am right up against my car now; I can reach out and touch the demon if I wanted.  His legs look much like that of a monkey, but massive clawed paws and huge muscles.  His knees jut out a few feet before his leg withdrew back the same distance to support his torso.  His chest is the only thing that lacks thick dark hair, but only where his eight-pack abs are, each muscle two to three times the size of my hand.  His arms look more like that of a human, but are disproportionally larger than his legs, which are still pretty massive.  His biceps are easily four times the size of my head and his arm the size of a watermelon all the way down to his clawed fingers. 

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