Lesson 4 – Johnnie Walker

Damn, where’s my knife? Where’s my knife! Jose screamed it inside his head, his throbbing, still drunken head. The noises came from the back door downstairs, three hard kicks. Now movement in the kitchen. They’re searching, maybe for booze or money? Not the Johnnie Walker Black Label! A birthday gift from dad, he’d roll over in his grave if I lost it. Keep still, count how many of them there are. Should I call the cops? No, they’ll hear me talking. And I’ll never be able to explain it to Lizzie, the best ex ever until the shit hits the fan. No, keep quiet until they leave, they will leave.