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Why I Survived The Evil House (Continued)
by Michael S. Collins

Why I Cannot Pay My Loans

Now, you know the problems I had had with the house in Cartside Road. The evil one, that drink my beer without a second thought. Well, ever since it burned down – quite majestically – I've had trouble putting money together.

This is because most of the money I have, which I work hard to earn (and you wouldn't believe how hard I work to convince my mum to give me some money!), has to go to my now ex-landlord, to whom I still owe a fair bit of money. But he has been so kindly about the whole thing. He's even only threatened to kill me the once.

You write to me telling me I owe the Company three thousand pounds. I don't remember having three thousand pounds in my life, letting alone spending it. Are you sure there has not been some mistake? You never know, you might have been going to collect debt off some fellow, and took the wrong direction and lambasted innocent ol' me by accident. I'm sure it has been known to happen.

But the main problem here seems to be the money. Sorry, I don't have it. All the money that my dear mum works her behind off to earn goes straight to the pockets of Mr Raculad, my ex-landlord. He's told me to never go to see him during the hours of daylight, to refrain from eating garlic pizzas, and to quit leaving the wooden stakes I was playing about with from my joining days around. He really is such a lovely harmless old man.

All the money goes to him. I swear. So please forgive my lack of cheques at this time, and I hope you will find it in your heart not to send me to the Courts.

Best wishes,

Why I Never Went to Court

I got your letter the other day, saying that since I was not paying the debt collectors, I was summoned to appear before the Court this coming September 21st. Since you may not recall, allow me to exposition my story for you: I can't pay my alleged debts because I am paying back rent to my less alleged ex-landlord, Mr Raculad, as a favour for him not killing me for destroying his house. Which was evil and started the fight, but that is neither here nor there.

So to get this letter, demanding swift action, is really a bane to me and my poor mums life. I mean, all the money that she goes out and earns for a living, then hands to me, is really being syphoned out the door to Mr Raculad, and all that is left is spent on survival substinance. And besides, I don't recall ever seeing this 3000 in my life. Do I look like the type who could spend 3000 in a night? Didn't think so.

Then again, there was that night where me and ol' Haulgy were up at the Arms and...nah, on second thoughts, just forget that little story. I'm not the type to see three grand, let alone have it.

So, quite honestly, I will not be able to attend the upcoming Court summons. On account of my ill health (got the chills somewhat dreadful, mums Poltergeist's been hiding my jumpers), my looking after mums house while she pays my way, and the like. Mum is going to go and see Mr Raculad tomorrow to sort out the trouble, and hopes you will forgive us both for this irregularity.

Best wishes

Why Mum Wont Answer The Phone

I know that you phoned our landline twice this week, looking for mum. I'm sorry that no one was able to answer the phone to you. I miss my mum. She died this week you see. I loved my mum, it's a terrible shame.

And it's partly my fault. I forgot to mention to her that Mr Raculad was a vampire, and she was no longer for this world. All my own damned fault. 

Mr Raculad has moved out. This means I no longer pay his back rent. This is just as well, since with my mum now dead, no one was able to pay for it. Well, I could always get a job, but you know, we're in the middle of a recession. Jobs are hard to find for the needy. By sitting around with the drink, why, I'm doing some other poor soul a favour! An act of kindness from the bottom of my heart for some warranted stranger needing a bit of luck. Sitting around on the dole is my way of giving charity to others.

But yeah, mum's gone. Deaders. Mr Raculad is gone too. It's just me, hanging around mum's old house. Thankfully, she's paid the full mortgage on this place, else I'd need a job. I've been working hard, rationing: I've sorted the dole money out into one bottle of Scotch a day. A man has to ration in recessionable times.

I stumbled across the ruins of the Cartside Street house the other day. An evil place, the source of my downfall. The blackened ashes and mortar laughed at me for all to hear. I gave the nearest brick a kick, and it stubbed my toe. The evil house won again.

Best wishes

Why I'm Away from There

I thought I should give you a little heads-up, on account of you probably being a little concerned because I never attended the recent Court Summoning, or answered the phone, or even showed up at the wee supermarket on Sinclair Drive for the daily bottle of Scotch. Well, I have a good excuse. You see, I'm in Antigua. 

How I got here you wont believe me. Let's just say the rumours of the interstellar teleport in George Square are true. Or I fell on-board a new ship on the Clyde and was here before I knew it. Whichever you believe. 

But it is just as well I am here, for I have strange forebodings about the country I left. Aye, Britain. Which else? You see, I'm pretty certain the Deputy Prime Minister is a vampire. Aye, Lord Hastings himself. Well, don't sound so funny in response. It makes perfect sense to me. The whole bloody world (excuse the pun) is blind to the every day super normalities running around like irrelevances. Well, I see them all right. I see this entire planet for what is, some kind of giant Matrix like device, in which we are all slaves, and nothing is ever as it seems. 

Oh hang on a second, I need to go get a drink. Hell, if this is the Matrix, and it has Scotch of this quality, then long live the Matrix.

I am glad to be gone from Cartside Road. Let those evil ruins torment someone else for a time. I am now sharing a flat with this old guy called Mr Ralucad. He seems slightly familiar, but is friendly and harmless, so I should think. 

In fact, there's a party at our place after sunset tonight. I can't wait.

Adios from Antigua,
I am finally free of the evil house!

Best wishes