"The farther back you can look, the farther forward you are likely to see." - Winston Churchill

I close the laptop and place it back in its resting place. Just in time it seems as I hear a knock on the door. Looking down at the table, I see a second set of keys staring up at me. Anna forgot her keys, again.

Another knock on the door, this one more impatient than the last. I get out of the chair and walk over to the source of the knock, unlock the lock and open the door. Anna stomps into the house, the look on her face makes her seem pretty pissed.

"You would not believe the day I've had!"

Oh, I'm pretty sure I'd understand having a stressful day. She walks into the main room, if you could call it that, and sits down at the chair I was just in. Shaking her head rapidly in frustration, she slams her fists down on the table.

"Sheesh! What happened?"

I haven't quite gotten rid of that sarcastic voice, have I? Anna looks over at me like she's about to jump down my throat or rip my head off or something! Instead she just looks down at her hands.

"Fuck off, Jessica."

Oh yeah, I'm still Jessica to her. Wait a second, she's looking down at the notebook I still left on the table! I reach down and snatch it out from under her before she rubs the two brain cells she likely has left together to read anything written.

"Hey! That stuff's personal!"

Yeah, nothing like a good bit of teasing to throw suspicion off yourself, right? Anna just looks at me like I have a screw loose or something. I get that look a lot, I wonder why...

Did I just use sarcasm on myself? What the fuck, brain?

"Yeah yeah, I don't give a shit about your private life."

Good, good. She doesn't need to know about this yet. I walk into the second part of the main room and take a seat in another of the chairs.

"I call the bedroom tonight."

Wow, she sounds really out of it. I've always been awful at being a helpful communicator, but I can 'listen' real good. She could just vent to me while I'm lost in my own little world and I could just say 'do what you feel's right' or some similar line. That seems to solve her problems every other time.

Before I can even suggest that however, she's already walking into the bedroom. Was it something I said? Whatever, now's as good a time as any to get some fucking sleep.

Or not. I'll sleep when I'm dead.

Looking back at my hands, I notice that I'm still gripping the notebook. Wait, where's the microphone? Did I drop on the way back or something? As long as I didn't leave it out in view, I'm fine...

Dropping the notebook to the ground, I can't help but feel the need to do something. Anything, really. Well, anything that isn't sitting here, staring off into space while trying to think of what to write in this fucking notebook.

I stand up and grab a set of the keys off the table. At this point, I don't care which one of ours' it is. Opening the door, I hear Anna call out with a half asleep, uncaring voice.

"Where are you going?"

"Out."

As the door shuts behind Jessie, Anna hops up out of the bed. In her head, she thought of how big of a secret her roommate has to want to hide it from her in such an obvious manner. Walking out of the bedroom, she sees the notebook laying on the ground.

Curiosity takes over and the next thing Anna knows, she's reading every line of text in an attempt to get to the bottom of this mystery. Reaching the rushed portion toward the bottom of the page, she realizes that it's almost illegible at this point. She thinks to herself how weird it is that Jessie of all people would write like that.

Deciding it would be for the best to just go back to bed, she drops the notebook as well. She walks into the bedroom, feeling as confused as she does angry...


The sky looks pretty at this time of night, I think to myself as I drift down the sidewalk in no particular direction. I should really come out here some more. The way the light of the moon shines off the windows and whatnot. Fuck it, I'm not a poet.

Adrenaline's running through my veins, unrelenting in each step I take. Aren't long walks supposed to calm you down? Apparently not, as my heart keeps pounding with each and every step I take. What the hell has gotten into me? It feels like I have half a mind to punch the next person I see in the throat, and the other half agrees!

Wait a minute, did I just think up an incredibly awful pun while asking myself why I'm feeling the way I do? Note to self, get professional help. Fuck it, it's probably just nerves anyway...

...Why am I nervous? I've seen what my opponents are capable of and I'm fairly certain I have what it takes to beat every one of them. Maybe it's the fact there's four of them, and only one of me when it comes to those I actually have any knowledge of.

I just need to get my mind off of it. That's what'll help. Just then, I see a man running past me with a purse in his hand. That's weird, I don't even carry a purse, what good would it do for that man? Maybe he likes being made fun of. To each their own, I guess...

A woman's scream pierces my eardrum. The source comes running up to me, a middle aged woman. Through the confusing mumbles and sobs, I can sort of make out what she's trying to communicate to me.

"Some man stole my purse!"

That mother fucker! He ran right by me and I thought nothing of it!

"I think I might've seen him, stay here."

Running off in the direction the man went, I feel the adrenaline slowly burning out. You mean to tell me this is how to cool off? Oh well, better to know that now for next time. My heart rate is sky rocketing as I draw nearer to the thief. I don't think he's paying attention at this point...

I leap forward and latch onto his shirt! He turns around and tries to swing at me, almost landing successfully, might I ashamedly add. I duck under just in time and kick the thief square in the side of the knee, letting go of my grip and he stumbles about.

He tries to run off again, but he can't really put a lot of force on that left knee. I slow myself down to a walking pace as he falls over, hitting his head against the curb. Ouch, but I can't feel too bad for him, can I?

Kneeling down to him, I yank the purse out of his cold, dry hands. He looks up at me, his beady fucking eyes accusing me of something. Newsflash , I didn't steal a purse, you did. Maybe a kick to the head will get him to stop looking at me like that...

...Or maybe not. All that seemed to do was make the look a lot more hate filled, and cause blood to gush out of his nose. Jesus H. Christ, is he going to be okay? For some reason, I can't help but to think that as I dart off to take the purse back to its rightful owner.

I find the woman sitting where she ran up to me, crying like a fucking infant. Maybe I should've just let the guy run off with it, and just walked away. Fuck this. I approach her and drop the purse on the ground very unenthusiastically and walk away.

Sometimes, I fucking hate people.