right, isn't it?" he said as he looked at the picture of his mum on the kitchen wall.
Ross Turner had started out his life as best he could, considering his mother was a beaten wife and his father was a drunken waste of a human being, in Ross's opinion.
After Billy had gone to jail, Ross slowly became insane, but he knew that the grief for his mother had taken over. The revenge had become an obsession. It was the first thing that he thought about on awakening and the last thing before slipping into sleep at night.
His life had become about living for his mother. Prison wasn't justice enough for Ross after the murder, torture and mental abuse that Maria had endured for many years of her marriage to Billy. That's what he wanted, justice. He knew deep down that all of the pain, loss and frustration he felt for his mother was one hundred percent down to Billy, but he just couldn't accept the fact that Maria was gone, and Billy was in prison, still alive. He had convinced himself that someone else was to blame. All of those horrible women who smelled of cigarette smoke and alcohol that Billy brought home, all of the lies, all of the dirty filthy lies that seemed to pour out of his mouth with great ease, it all became unbearable for Ross.
Angela Noble became part of Ross's revenge, the first real piece of sanity brought back to his grief stricken mind.
Angela Noble looked like all that he could remember of Billy’s conquests. Typical looking girl out to hurt and cause carnage on someone else. But he knew that if a Billy came along, she wouldn't hesitate to make it known that she was up for it.
It all seemed like it was meant to be, the sun was setting and the beer garden was beginning to empty as the night began to cool down and a slight chill in the Glasgow night air sent goose bumps over the skin of the people enjoying their martini's and vodka's. For some reason Angela was sat outside on her own, with a black maxi dress and long brunette hair that had natural curls hanging around her face and down her back.
One may have said she was elegantly presented, but not Ross. For some reason, when he looked at her, he felt sheer rage. It all happened in a blur, Ross felt like he wasn't the one committing the crime, but a witness to it. A witness who enjoyed watching her squirm in a chokehold, a hold that she hoped she would be able to escape and a hold that he knew he would never let go. Not until he was satisfied that the job was done, keeping in mind, a job that he hadn't even planned to do, on that occasion anyway.
It wasn't until he saw the local news the next evening that the real satisfaction kicked in. The satisfaction of knowing that, in his mind, causing grief was to cure grief, his own grief. The grief he felt for Maria. But the pain was still there, he could feel her pain, he could feel how she felt when she heard Bi lly bring home the latest whore.
One is not enough justice for my mother , he kept telling himself.
He felt no remorse for Angela and neither for Michelle or Rebecca.
"There will never be enough justice for you mum. They'll suffer the way we did, until I take my last breath, until I bleed my last drop, whatever it takes."
The buzzer rang in Ross' hallway and for a moment he wondered if this was the end of his run already. Well, if it was, he wasn't ready, but he wasn't going to show it on the surface. He walked steadily from the kitchen to the hall and picked up the receiver, picking up some post that had been dropped on to the mat at the same time.
"Hello?"
"Son?" A familiar but gruff voice replied.
Ross was in disbelief. There's no way.
"Ross?" Billy's voice was clearer now than it ever had been. He felt like a child again. The fear of not knowing what to expect had crept over his skin like a colony of ants.
Do not let him hear your fear, he can't win you over with his intimidation, you owe it to yourself.
"I'm sorry, but may I ask, what the fuck you think you are doing here?" Ross hissed into
Ross Turner had started out his life as best he could, considering his mother was a beaten wife and his father was a drunken waste of a human being, in Ross's opinion.
After Billy had gone to jail, Ross slowly became insane, but he knew that the grief for his mother had taken over. The revenge had become an obsession. It was the first thing that he thought about on awakening and the last thing before slipping into sleep at night.
His life had become about living for his mother. Prison wasn't justice enough for Ross after the murder, torture and mental abuse that Maria had endured for many years of her marriage to Billy. That's what he wanted, justice. He knew deep down that all of the pain, loss and frustration he felt for his mother was one hundred percent down to Billy, but he just couldn't accept the fact that Maria was gone, and Billy was in prison, still alive. He had convinced himself that someone else was to blame. All of those horrible women who smelled of cigarette smoke and alcohol that Billy brought home, all of the lies, all of the dirty filthy lies that seemed to pour out of his mouth with great ease, it all became unbearable for Ross.
Angela Noble became part of Ross's revenge, the first real piece of sanity brought back to his grief stricken mind.
Angela Noble looked like all that he could remember of Billy’s conquests. Typical looking girl out to hurt and cause carnage on someone else. But he knew that if a Billy came along, she wouldn't hesitate to make it known that she was up for it.
It all seemed like it was meant to be, the sun was setting and the beer garden was beginning to empty as the night began to cool down and a slight chill in the Glasgow night air sent goose bumps over the skin of the people enjoying their martini's and vodka's. For some reason Angela was sat outside on her own, with a black maxi dress and long brunette hair that had natural curls hanging around her face and down her back.
One may have said she was elegantly presented, but not Ross. For some reason, when he looked at her, he felt sheer rage. It all happened in a blur, Ross felt like he wasn't the one committing the crime, but a witness to it. A witness who enjoyed watching her squirm in a chokehold, a hold that she hoped she would be able to escape and a hold that he knew he would never let go. Not until he was satisfied that the job was done, keeping in mind, a job that he hadn't even planned to do, on that occasion anyway.
It wasn't until he saw the local news the next evening that the real satisfaction kicked in. The satisfaction of knowing that, in his mind, causing grief was to cure grief, his own grief. The grief he felt for Maria. But the pain was still there, he could feel her pain, he could feel how she felt when she heard Bi lly bring home the latest whore.
One is not enough justice for my mother , he kept telling himself.
He felt no remorse for Angela and neither for Michelle or Rebecca.
"There will never be enough justice for you mum. They'll suffer the way we did, until I take my last breath, until I bleed my last drop, whatever it takes."
The buzzer rang in Ross' hallway and for a moment he wondered if this was the end of his run already. Well, if it was, he wasn't ready, but he wasn't going to show it on the surface. He walked steadily from the kitchen to the hall and picked up the receiver, picking up some post that had been dropped on to the mat at the same time.
"Hello?"
"Son?" A familiar but gruff voice replied.
Ross was in disbelief. There's no way.
"Ross?" Billy's voice was clearer now than it ever had been. He felt like a child again. The fear of not knowing what to expect had crept over his skin like a colony of ants.
Do not let him hear your fear, he can't win you over with his intimidation, you owe it to yourself.
"I'm sorry, but may I ask, what the fuck you think you are doing here?" Ross hissed into
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