[Locked from Roomie, Mum and the Aussie Bastard] S'Troubling It Is

[pride_of_kiwi]

So about a week ago, I ran into this small shivery bloke on m'way to pick up some materials for a project. This'll be after, ah... Well, I suppose you could call it a bit of a prang with a certain former plod. Got a coupla scrapes and cuts. Bruises. Might have a broken bone or two still (ribs, at least) but I'm thinkin' that's it.

So I run into this little fellow and we get to having a yack and he gives me the idea of stage makeup to hide m' 'battlescars'. There's only so much the ER at the hospital can do for a man's appearance after a tussle and I'll not be wanting to explain to m'mum any time soon about what happened. Or anyone else of the ilk for that matter. Thought, 'Hey, why not try it out?'

Days later and here I am, applying the rubbish every mornin' and takin' it off every night. Git did a number on me, you ain't wrong, most of the wounds continue hurtin' like a bitch but...

Fuck. As long as mum doesn't know about it, so much the better.

I just... can't believe I said that. I fuckin' told him. To his fuckin' face.

We're still talkin' and all that but... I have no idea what to think about this anymore. Emi, bless her, was an angel- but even discussin' it with a good mate...

I don't...

Fuck.