Jackie

Jackie, is the massively overweight blob who trundles her way on her mobile scooter back n forth from her flat below me every morning at 6am. 

I wouldn't mind so much, nor would anyone else in the street, but she is so so very, very annoying. She has a little rat, an ankle biting, just asking wannabe football of a dog, running as fast as it's little legs can, literally being dragged behind her. 

As Jackie zips up and down from kerb to road and back again, it seems as if she has little care for her rat as it yaps uncontrollably, probably trying to tell the blob to slow down. However, in doing so the rat woke everyone up, all along the road to the cold winters morning air, leaking into my bedroom through some unknown draft that came from behind twitching curtains. 

I've asked her before what her disability was, when I was still invited into her flat, she claimed to have fibromyalgia. 

I had no idea what that was, actually shocked that something that could turn what was once an averagely looking thin girl, from the pictures I could see of her younger self on the wall, into the 30 stone felt blue pant suit wearing blob I now saw in front of me. 

It must be severe I thought as I suddenly noticed that the ankle biter had ceased barking and had sat still looking up at the kitchen table where Jenny now stood. This was because it was now dinner time for the rat, and so it seemed for the blob as well, kind of. 

I stood silent as I watched Jackie prepare a large concoction of pills and liquids for herself in between dishing out pebbles of multi coloured doggy treats that she claimed were half food, half medication for her rat dog into a dish. The dog also apparently suffered from many various medical issues, as well as Jackie who was quickly opening and shutting packs of pills. 

The rat sat quiet for once thank God, in a seated position, licking it's lips, waiting for the red n green biscuits that Jackie had somehow convinced it, were actually tasty yum yum time doggy treats. 

I wondered if Jackie ever got the two pots of medication mixed up, hoping actually one day she would just to see if she noticed that the dogs medication cured her of the aches and pains she trotted off to me that aisled her so much. . 

Some of her meds I recognised the names of on the sides of the packets, mainly because I took the same medications, and no one can miss the huge letters spelling out Morphine on the side or a bottle.

At the time I thought she must have some severe shit going on, and I almost felt a pang of guilt for cussing every time I heard her rat yap below my window. I refuse to call it a dog because dogs bark, and this creature yaps. Dogs also eat meaty food not vitamin tablets like this trained animal was quietly waiting for. 

When I got home that day I Googled fibromyalgia on my phone. It seemed to be the perfect catch all illness for someone wanting to live their whole lives on benefits as it had over 170 symptoms. I ran my finger down them all counting the ones I could legitimately claim to have myself. 

However at the bottom it said a sufferer of this horrible catch all illness that chemist's must love, would only suffer a subset of these and one person may have IBS whilst another may suffer from pain. 

This pain may come in the form of an ache, a burning sensation or a sharp, stabbing pain. Perfectly describing any form of pain someone may have from getting the clap or having constipation to having a heart attack or stroke. 

What a fraud she was I thought, swilling a large gulp from my own bottle of oral morph and taking a few benzos to calm myself down as I heard the yapping of the rat in the garden below. 

No wonder the NHS is in trouble with people like Jackie taking up resources for some fake illness, I wondered how many people had it in the country as I received a beep on my phone to remind me of a scan I needed tomorrow before getting my gallbladder removed. I could imagine some lady made this illness up to excuse a clitoral upset in the days before female orgasms were officially declared a real occurrence and legal in this fine country.

I looked down at the garden where the rat yapped away for no seemingly good reason at all and I watched Jackie smoke her box of cigarettes dry. She loved to smoke and she lived to choke. I thought about the dangers of tobacco smoking as I sparked up a joint and watched from my perch above Jackie as she hooked her rat up to her mobile scooter and drove off towards the local shop, undoubtedly to restock on snout. 

No wonder she got pains in the chest I thought, thinking what pill I could drop into her garden from my window, hoping to poison the rat on its return. I ran my own finger along a long line of medication I was prescribed from neuropathic and physical pains to medications to counter the side effects of mixing all of them together. 

The GP really shouldn't be scripting me all these I thought as I came to a dead stop at some old MST pills. I opened the box to pop one out and saw it was red, just like the colour of one of the rats medication slash yummy food pills. It was only 5mg so maybe it might only make the dog very sleepily I thought as I opened my draftee window and threw it down into the shrubbery below. 

I was sure the dog would come across it at some stage and maybe it might give Jackie a little shock to see herself literally dragging the rat totally comatose one day along the pavement. Either that or it will kill the dam thing. No downsides then I thought leaping onto my bed to watch American Psycho for the hundredth time. 

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