"LAMENT"
Spender POV.
Disclaimer: Jeffrey Spender belongs to CC, 1013 & FOX

It's that time of the year again. The time when I become the world's biggest 
asshole, so much so, I could give my father a good run for his Morleys in the 
asshole stakes. 
At work, I'm distant and distracted ... a real pain in the ass. I'd bite your 
head off as soon as you look at me, and mumble obscenties as soon as your back 
is turned to me. Yep, I'm your regular barrel of laughs ... Jeffrey Morbid 
Fuckhead Spender ... that's me. The title really suits me just about now. I'm 
feeling really low and morbid and my attitude is that of a complete and utter 
fuckhead.

Somehow I manage to get through the tasks at hand, I can't concentrate, and it's 
a complete miracle I haven't fucked up an important case yet considering the way 
I'm feeling at the moment. I'm in the worst mood imaginable, I really want to 
kick the hell out someone's sorry ass, wail on them the way they usually wail on 
me but somehow,  just somehow, I manage to keep myself in control ... just ...

I really feel like running down the hallways of the J Edgar Hoover Building, 
screaming my lungs out, slamming office doors and not really giving a fuck who I 
upset in the process. But I can't really give a fuck about anything or anyone 
right now. No-one gives a fuck how I feel, and as far as I'm concerned, the 
wholewide world can just fuck off. I wish I didn't have to come to work, be 
around all these people, but I guess it's better than sitting at home alone, 
contemplating whether or not to smack my head against the nearest wall out of 
sheer frustration, to take my anger out on my poor pillow which is looking a 
little worse for wear thanks to my beatings. It's amazing how losing someone 
important in your life can cause a person to feel so crazy, and to act just the 
same. I guess it's kind of a form of despair. Fucking bizarre really. I'd never 
really felt this way before. Well, I've been borderline on many an occassion, 
but nothing as extreme as this. I want to tell the whole fucking FBI to go shove 
their heads up their asses, and maybe I will ... maybe. If  I start with Fox 
Mulder first, treat him the way he usually treats me, maybe that'll make me feel 
a little better, but I really seriously doubt that. What's the point of getting 
completely pissed off with someone? Making them suffer because deep inside 
you're suffering? It's not going to bring my mother back. No amount of screaming 
down hallways, slamming doors, head bashings, cruelty to pillows or any of that 
pain I'd like to inflict on other people, will bring her back. So until a 
miracle happens, and she's found alive or I can at least put her to rest in the 
fashion she deserves,  this time of the year, this one day out of 365 days, the 
very day she she was lost to me, I'll continue to miss her, and mourn for her by 
acting like the world's biggest asshole.

THE END.