I bang on the door once. Twice. My heart rate starts to rise like a Malaysia Airlines flight leaving the airport for one last time. Bang. Bang. Bang. "Hey it's me Lobe." There could be anything behind that door: a massacre or a little girl's birthday party. Getting real tired of pulling rabbits out of hats.

Turns out this door isn't locked. I guess I'd never been smart, huh. But I'm smart enough to realise I'm dumb. You can't say that for a lot of kids these days. You wanna know what I've learnt about smart people? It's that they're always happy to have someone stupid around to do their dirty work.

The door creaks open on a duet between twilight and the phosphorescent glimmer of a television in full static. The girl's dead. Brains blown out on the sofa. Pile of skull and half-eaten curry. You gotta pity a corpse that doesn't even attract flies.

*TRING* ----- *TRING* ---- *TRING*

I pick it up.

"Lobe."

"We know."

"You killed the girl. Why?"

"You ever feel like a spider caught in someone else's web?"

This guy knew something. I wanted to know what. He kept talking.

"Your whole world, everyone you know, everything you think and believe is like furniture in someone else's home, furniture they have put together for their own enjoyment."

"..."

"You're just a fish in the net. You eat the grass someone else grows for you and you call it freedom."

They hang up.

I move across from the body. Terrible shame. Out, out onto the balcony. I see towers full of Neon. Neon lights and Neon faces. Dead TV channel sky. It roars with the noise of a thousand motorcycles.