So I walked in on Johnny walking some movie earlier tonight. We shared some caramel popcorn and laughed at this made-for-tv movie that I don't know what it was, but it was funny. It had a gay cop in it.
Then I tired to dive out the window and may have broken my nose trying it. Johnny and me sat in his bathroom for half an hour alternating between tissues to keep the blood from dripping out of my head. We learned a lot about each other. Well, as much as I could about him, who didn't have much to say about his past. He was very preoccupied with the present though, and the immediate past with the Moose, as he called it. He claimed he once killed himself and the "Wall Thing" made it out and ended the universe. I asked when this was and he asked me the year. Which I laughed at him for and dripped blood on my shirt, which I had been wearing for so long it was beginning to fuse into my skin.
Once I had my nose more-or-less dry, I waited in the kitchen with a can of soup while he cleaned out the bathtub because I said that I NEEDED to shower. I didn't have any shampoo or soap, so he made a quick trip over my house to grab my old stuff, along with some clean towels, jeans and a shirt, a friggin sweater, my deodorant AND, I specifically asked for, my perfume. It smells like lavender and I hoped it would overpower the copper smell. The upstairs isn't nearly as bad as the lower levels. He locked me into the bathroom while doing this all, by the way. I had my first handcuffed-to-the-pipes experience.
There is nothing on this EARTH more satisfying than a good shower. The water was too warm (it felt good) and I forgot to have him bring over lotion and conditioner, so my hair was frizzy and hard to brush out, and my skin was dry and itchy, and my jeans were the torn ones that made my left knee REALLY cold, but my god, it was the best shower Ive ever had.
He called me some names while attending to my nose that I've never heard before. He also asked me if I was sent by the Moose, and I had to say "no", and wondered what would have been his reaction if I said yes. I don't remember exact words of the conversation (I was busy bleeding profusely) but he began telling me of his personality. It was listening to my grandmother; he kept going on about his own problems, his inability to concentrate anymore, inattention, extreme anti-social behavior (which made me laugh and I sneeze/cough/laughed blood into his hand, which he didn't even blink at, he just wiped it on his pants and pulled out another roll of toilet paper) so I told him he's ADHD. Which made HIM laugh, and listening to his evil chuckle reminded me of the time I compared him to the villain from the Silence of the Lambs movie and he laughed at me then too.
A little Later:
Johnny put on a KoRn cd wicked loudly and we sang along with it for an hour, bouncing on his sofa. We watched the sun come up through one of the windows, and he stuck his head out the window and screamed GOOD MORNING SQUEE and the next door neighbors window shut. That little kid on the trike, that's right.
Monday
Midnight: thirty-six
Squee is that little kids nickname. Johnny said he and Squee are the closest thing to friends you can be. I asked him how he figured a little kid and an older dude could possibly get along when one is a serial killer and one is 10. He just grinned more broadly than its possible to grin but said nothing.
Its sick, really. I tried calling the police but they...don't...pick ...UP...since when does "911" have hold music?
I hid myself in the bathroom, still cleaned out, for three hours and wondered about things. I heard Johnny move around...change stuff...drag things, bang pipes, I heard screaming from downstairs, (ran some water to avoid it) and took a pill to help me sleep because Johnny has a medicine cabinet full of expired medication, and more medication than I've ever seen outside a drug store. Tylenol PM's are pretty harmless, so I just took the bottle with me and fell asleep on the couch.
Which makes this now a Wednesday, not Tuesday...wait...does it?
Either way... I'm not getting out this house alive, am I?