27 March 2011

23:08

I didn't win the Euromillions last night. Maybe just as well because I think I would have to get my face reconstructed. I firmly believe that if you won that amount of money, some bad, and I mean really bad, people would try their damnedest to find you and your pot of gold. I can't be doing with that. I was starting to think who's face would I have? Maybe a new body as well; female. It was getting ludicrous. As I said, I didn't win. Hold on, something's happening in the close. Bloody neighbours!! I'll get back to you.

23:20

Fuck sake! You'll have to excuse my language but I just saw such scene in the close. I say me, it was actually Connie that heard it first. Who's Connie? Well, I wasn't going to mention her. She my girlfriend. She hasn't been relevant until now because she read my journal and wondered why there was no mention of her. It's my journal so I can put in or leave out whomever I want. She doesn't see it that way. She asked if I had put down that my clothes magically wash, iron and put themselves away. I got her point, right in the back of my head. So that's her, that's Connie. She beckoned me over to the spyhole and, well, she says she “let me” have a look. That old lady that I saw getting help up the stairs the other day, she was going absolutely mental in the close. Connie said she heard something scrape against the wall outside. Someone was making their way clumsily down, stumbling and fumbling. It was that old lady. She stopped outside our door and was grabbing at the handle. Connie said it looked as though there was blood on her teeth. I had a look for myself.

It did look as though she had blood or something on her teeth and she didn't look well at all. One of the worker guys with the overalls came down the stairs with that prat from upstairs. They both got a hold of her, and held her at a distance. I noticed blood on the worker's boiler suit. I wasn't much but it was noticeable. I didn't quite hear what was being said because Connie had her ear to the letterbox and she said they were talking shite. I would like to take this time to officially thank her for her cooperation and contribution to this journal and I deserved the slap on the back of the head that she gave me. It wasn't her fault she couldn't understand them.

I don't know if I should call the police or not. Is it obvious that I should, after all I don't know what went on up there. I'm one of those people who thinks that if there's something dodgy going on then someone else should take charge or I should at least wait until someone else notices. That way if I'm mistaken we all look like a bunch of insecure melodramatic paranoid idiots. It's not as if I actually saw anyone getting hurt. I'll leave it just for the moment. See if anyone else in the close heard anything. If not, I'll forget all about it.

Time for a sleep. Night.