The Craziest Of Them All

VIII

I stand flabbergasted at the comment that Demon just hit me with.’You’re gonna be here a long time’, how long is a long time. Like I cannot die in captivity. I simply refuse to go out that way.

“I'm sorry, but what do you mean by I'm gonna be here for a long time?” I ask in the most polite way I know how. I even throw an innocent smile in to sweeten the deal.

“I mean exactly what I said.” Demon says, still not taking his eyes off of the television set.”You could be here for a week, a month, a year or even a whole lifetime.” He adds. He finally turns away from the preppy sports commentator from ESPN to give me an evil smirk. It's as if he can sense my distress and that he is taking great pleasure in my pain.

“What!” I yelp out, “I cannot spend my 25th birthday in this dump!” I exclaim while stretching my arms out on either side, indicating to the mess all around us.

“Oh I wouldn't worry about that if I were you.” Demon says nonchalantly. Hope instantly begins to swell in my chest as soon as I hear the words come out of his mouth. Maybe they are going to set me free after some time, maybe they were just keeping me to make sure that I don't tell anyone about what I saw in that godforsaken alley, where poor Louis’ head got blown off his neck. “You’re probably gonna die before that happens.”

The tiny bit of hope I had instantly gets squashed into non-existence by his words. Die?! What the actual fuck! I analyze Demon’s stoic face to see if he is kidding, if this is his sick version of a joke, but the nigga is being as serious as a heart attack.

“Please tell me you just playing.” I practically plead.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” Is his reply, before turning around and paying attention to the TV again.

Okay fine, nigga might be serious but little does he know that I plan on escaping this hell hole way before next week even comes around. So imma just let him think he scared me, but he don't know that I don't scare easily. If I escaped that dungeon I woke up in earlier today, then escaping this apartment will be breeze.

I look at Demon, who is watching the television screen intently. I move closer to the couch and remove the empty pizza box that is in the other half of the two seater. I carelessly throw the box on the floor before plopping myself on the couch.

Demon glances at me for a second before watching the television screen once more. I can see that my presence bothers him even though he is trying his best not show that I am irritating him.

"Sooooo..." I start talking once more, trying to get his attention. "What's up with the name Demon? I mean, what kind of a name is that? Is that even your real name?" I ramble off, getting totally distracted. He intently stares at the screen, completely ignoring me.

"And what is up with all the beer cans? Why are there so many of them? Are you an alcoholic?" I continue speaking mindlessly. “Did you know that alcohol destroys your brain cells, and your brain cells do not get regenerated? That means once they are gone, they’re gone.”

"Can you shut up?"

"And how the heck are you so skinny if you eat so much junk food?" I ask, eyeing all the burger wrappings and pizza boxes. “Your metabolism must be on steroids for you not to be obese right now. It literally doesn't look like you have an ounce of fat on you…”

"Okay that's it!" Demon shouts, shutting the TV off at the same time. He turns his body on the couch so that he is looking at me. "Number one, I am not skinny, okay, I am muscular and number two you need to learn to shut the fuck up while you are here." At that, he faces the TV and switches it on again.