If you want to be innocent of something then you damn well better make sure that you don’t do it!
Garry heard his father’s voice echoing inside his mind; coda to all his daylight hours; dropping through his thoughts with infuriating regularity; as inconvenient as a hanged man at a dinner party.
Still, at least Garry was alone in his nighttime hours. Sleeping pills made sure of that. Until one day, or, to be more exact, one night, they didn’t work.
Tell me what happens next.
I’ll tell you what happens next in this story: absolutely nothing. It’s a made up thing, the product of a mind in a strange, warped mood. Garry does not exist, his father does not exist and this means that there was no-one to have such thoughts.
And in case you’re thinking that the author (or his father) had such thought: nope, no, no way, nothing doing there either.
So, yeah, thay puts that to bed.
I’m going to eat crisps and watch a movie now.