Creative Writing: Mental Illness

“Uuhhhhh Christ it's sunny out today, I really need to get curtains….” I struggle out of bed, the 3 pm church bells rang and woke me up.

I know what you're thinking, ‘who gets out of bed at 3 pm?!?’ Well, I'd be happy to tell you, people, who live on a street of sleazy bars and really sad brothels. Try sleeping when all you can hear is drunken whispers until the early morning.

I get out of bed and peer out my window just to make my eyes adjust to the bright light.

It's really sunny, I mean blistering heat and I just so happen to be out of water, great.

I check my water jug, just in case, nadda. I run around my small room collecting the thrown about pieces of clothing and put them all on as fast as I could.

I check to see if my room's door

Well, that's only if there's no wind, if its windy? I'm fucked. If I come back and the flour is gone or has somebody's paw prints on it then I obviously don't go

So what's for breakfast?, fruit again or will I be a little daring and see if I can get myself some pork sausages?

As I round the corner, shit “Fuck off Dylan, I swear I'll have you arrested, I know it's you who keeps robbing my sausages”

Shit, he moved his cart further up the street again.

“Me? mister O’Riley? I would never so much as gaze at your stinking pig fat rolls, I mean look at them they are clearly not fit to be sold, pretty sure those are full of mould mister O'Riley, I'd never steal those, that's just slander. You are tarnishing my good name mister O’Riley” shit, fruit it is.

“I'll get proof eventually you little shit, and whose sausages are full of mould? Come here you..” he isn't happy today huh?

He lunged at me as he always does when he sees me, thankfully he's a slow fellow.

I easily side step him and continue my ‘morning’ jog down the high street. Plenty of food stalls, mostly fruit, flowers and other raw ingredients such as raw meat or spices, sadly I can't cook. So I'll keep