Jack

The curtains are drawn and it's kinda light outside but he aint up. What will the neighbours think of him - 'bone lazy, welfare scum?' Come on, he should be up and out by now but I know what he's doing, he's hiding, trying to kill me with indolence and sleep and trying to forget about me. But I don't sleep you see, I have no concept of time I just grow, mess around with his DNA and make up malign and rogue cells. Keeps me busy, keeps me busy you know. I feel him stir, eyes open wide, and by Christ I love this bit, for about twenty seconds after waking he will forget what has happened to him. He will have forgotten about me and all will be rosy and Christmas Day a certainty but I will lean on him and poke him and he will remember who's calling the shots here. Hey,well at least he get's a bit of time out. He shaves and showers and still looks like shit but then he smiles into the mirror. Cheeky bastard I aint having that. I pinch him, a little pain around the scar, he gets it and hunches his shoulders in response. Now he knows I am here but he ignores me and makes his way to the fridge. Surely he can't be contemplating food. This is disappointing and if starts on all that vegetarian crap again I'm gonna get well pissed off with him...as I thought; blueberries and cranberries! Jesus, he's really trying! Now it's my turn, a little tap on his memory door, 'Hello it's your brain tumour' he swots the thought away and shoves another lettuce leaf into his mouth. Right so what's the best way to make him remember who I am? I got it, I will give myself a name...howsabaut...'Sutcliffe'...no, 'Brady'...no...'Saville' he would hate that but not even I can stoop that low...It's obvious isn't it, 'Jack' all those scalpels and knives...that's funny. Even he's laughing.