I was woken up by a wild vibration of my phone. The sound scared me to such extend that I managed to violently bump my head against the night stand as I struggled not to fall off my bed - which was just one of those things that happened exclusively to me (and perhaps also to characters in a badly written novel). Sometimes, I really had a feeling that my life was a joke.

I blindly reached towards the night stand, wrapping my fingers around the phone with an absolute conviction that I had been woken up by a message from a sadistic bastard who apparently wasn’t able to leave me alone for a single day.

Sadist: Good morning freak.

And I was right.

I quickly typed the reply, trying to contain all the anger and annoyance I was currently feeling towards him. Sure, greeting a person good morning was a very nice thing to do, but not if it was 5am on a Sunday morning.

Freak: Did you wake up at 5am so you could wake ME up at 5am?

I received the reply almost immediately.

Sadist: Oh, it’s 5am? Sorry freak, I had absolutely no idea.

I could almost hear how full of amusement and mockery his voice was and see the arrogant smile that usually decorated his lips. I sighed in exasperation. When I agreed to the deal, I truly didn’t think I was going to have to deal with this during the weekends as well.

Freak: What do you want ?
Sadist: Who says I want anything freak? I just nicely greeted you good morning.

I sighed once again before I proceeded to typing the answer.

Freak: Yes, at 5am. You know - your house is about 10 times bigger than mine, so you can just take a stroll or something if you’re so bored that you feel the need to harass me so early in the morning.

I knew it probably wasn’t boredom – that sadistic bastard just really enjoyed torturing me in any possible way at any possible time. The reply that arrived about a minute later successfully confirmed that assumption.

Sadist: You’re terrible at giving advice for fighting boredom, freak. Besides, I’m not bored, I just enjoy torturing you – it’s very satisfying even when I’m not there to see your face. 
Freak: Can’t you leave me alone for like, one day?
Sadist: No.

I groaned, deciding that I had quite enough of this pointless conversation and more than just enough of that sadistic bastard.

Freak: Fine. Just so you know - I’m shutting my phone down every evening from now on.

I pressed sent before I did exactly what I typed I was going to do and put my phone back onto the night stand. Then I lay my head onto the pillow and closed my eyes, hoping to get at least two more hours of sleep. But things obviously didn’t go according to plan – no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t prevent my brain from thinking about everything that happened this week and coming up with potential solutions for my – way too numerate – problems. And yes, that successfully stopped me from falling asleep, which is why I got out of bed about half an hour later.

I slowly got dressed while trying not to put bruised parts of my body under too much pressure. Then I strolled out of my small bedroom with intention of checking whether there was anything edible in the fridge, only to come to an abrupt halt at the begging of the hallway. My front door was opened - not wide opened, but definitely opened. I stood there as though something had turned me into a stone, trying to remember whether I locked the door after I returned home yesterday. I knew I had closed it, but did I lock it? Yes, of course I did. I certainly did. I wouldn’t forget such a basic thing even if someone threw a brick on my head.

Which meant that there were precisely two possibilities. One; someone had broken into my apartment while I was sleeping. And two; my dearest aunty decided it was a good time to come check how things stand at home. It was probably the later - I was pretty sure I would have woken up if someone tried to break into the apartment in the middle of the night. I still had to check to be sure though.

I slowly walked towards the door, gently closed it, turned the key that was still in the keyhole and then tried to open it again to see whether it was truly locked or not. It was - that meant the door wasn’t broken and that the culprit was almost definitely my aunt. Which meant…

I cursed under my breath, before I ran towards the kitchen and opened the first cabinet I laid my eyes on; empty. Second cabinet? empty as well. Fridge? Yoghurt and a bottle of beer, otherwise empty. Oven? empty. After I finished sweeping the kitchen, I proceeded to checking the living room and after that the bathroom and my bedroom. Nothing. The only money I succeeded to keep was the one that was hidden under my mattress - and even that probably remained in my possession only because I had been sleeping on it during the night. Everything else was gone.

At that particular moment, I happened to be very very ready to put my hands around my aunt’s neck and then slowly choke her to death. How the hell was I going to made it until the end of the month? I barely had enough to survive until Wednesday. I took a deep breath, realizing that the answer to that question was actually quite obvious. Very unpleasant to think about, true, but in the current situation unfortunately also my only choice.

I returned to my bedroom, threw myself onto the bed and grabbed my phone, turning it on. The sadistic bastard left me precisely one message.

Sadist: That is not going to stop me, freak.

Why did I believe him?

I slightly shook my head, realizing only then that I had absolutely no idea how to phrase my wish. I pondered about the dilemma for precisely one minute, before I decided that straightforwardness was currently the best obtion.

Freak: I think it’s time for you to pay what you owe me.

The reply came almost immediately.

Sadist: You think wrong, freak.

I sighed.

Freak: I thought you said it’s hard to find a new victim.
Sadist: Are you trying to tell me that you’re going to quit if I don’t pay you now or that you won’t survive if I don’t pay you now?
Freak: Both.
Sadist: Why?
Freak: None of your business.
Sadist: Cough it out, freak. I want to know why I’m paying.
Freak: You’re paying for my extremely good acting skills - and also for my kind dealing with your constant sadism and impertinence.
Sadist: You know very well that is not what I meant, freak.

I sighed in exasperation, realizing that there was no way around – I had to tell him the truth, no matter how deeply I hated it.

Freak: Fine. My aunt robbed me. I have no money at all - I can’t pay rent and currently the only habitants of my fridge are yoghurt and a beer.

I didn’t need to wait long for his response.

Sadist: Mhm, sounds a little far-fetched to me. How do I know you’re not lying?

I narrowed my eyes at the screen, getting more and more annoyed with him every minute. Why did he always have to play games with me?

Freak: I’m not telling you where I live if that’s what you want.
Sadist: Why not?
Freak: Because I want to have at least one place where I can hide from you?
Sadist: Now, now freak, that is a little bit rude don’t you think?
Freak: If you actually believe I’m the one who is being rude here, you should really listen to yourself from time to time.
Sadist: Fair enough.

And nothing… Nothing for a good ten minutes, which made me think that he purposely ‘forgot’ about my money problem and was now waiting for me to start begging - which I was going to do, because the number of my other choices was zero.

Freak: What about the money?
Sadist: Come here.
Freak: What?
Sadist: Come. to. my. house. and. we. will. talk. about. the. money.

I was 100% sure he was rolling his eyes while writing this.

Freak: Now?
Sadist: Yes now, freak. And I promise I’ll feed you if you behave.

My eyes narrowed almost immediately. Did he just…? Yes, yes, of course he did. Why was I even surprised? I should have really been used to this by now.

Freak: And I promise I’ll break you something if you continue to talk with me like I was your dog.

Not that there was anything actually wrong with being a dog. And not that I could actually break him something - he would probably manage to get me on the floor before I could even deliver my first punch.

Sadist: The way you did to that guy in the club? Oh please do, that was hilarious - I would love to witness something like that again.

Well, that was typical.

Freak: No. I was drunk back then - I won’t be this time.
Sadist: I hardly believe that will make any difference whatsoever. But you’re still very welcome to try.

I rolled my eyes, before I slowly stood up and began to search for my jacket. Nothing. Great, it was probably taken by my dearest auntie. I had no idea what she could possibly do with it, but that was the only conclusion I could make out of a given situation. I sighed as I pulled my warmest pullover over my head. I really didn’t want to go out into that cold, but I truly needed the money so there was unfortunately no other choice. Lucky me.