Drugs.
Brandon turned into a mean drunk. He got me hooked on cocaine so I never remembered the beatings but once I woke up I sure felt them. I was constantly covered in bruises and cuts -some made by Brandon, some not… I was miserable but at least I had my drugs. And then I didn’t. Brandon told me, “what’t the point of beating you if you won’t remember it? So let’s make you remember it.” The withdrawal was horrible. I hated it. So I turned to drinking and cutting. I was constantly drinking and cutting and being beaten so when I turned 18 I ran away.
I was homeless for 1 year and then I met Linda. Linda was a very nice lady so she offered to help me. All I had to do was put on a short dress, some make up, and a pair of heels, then go sell my body and she would give me the thing I desired most… drugs. I became a prostitute and yes people called me a slut but I didn't care. I’d always liked that word anyway.
So I did what I was supposed to. I sold my body and Linda gave me cocaine. I’d get high before I went out because I didn’t like remembering. Sometimes Linda would even bring people to me in my sleep but she would always shoot me up first because the things they did to me, nobody wants to remember. Seeing the track marks and cuts turned them on so thats what I did. I shot up more than I snorted and I littered my body in cuts. Because that’s what the customers liked, and if I did what the customers liked i’d get more cocaine. And cocaine made me happy.
Money.
Who doesn’t want money? Money also made me happy. With money I could buy things. Drugs, dresses, blades, shoes, alcohol, make-up. Anything my little heart desired. Well except for one thing. Love. All i’ve ever wanted in life was to be loved but I never got it.
*Present Day*
“We’ve got a group coming in at 10, do you need help tying the elastic around your arm?” Linda asks barging into my room. “Don’t bother, I know where the vein is, but could you zip me up.” I ask standing up from the bed and plunging the needle in my arm. “How many people this time?” I ask slipping on my heels while Linda zips me up. “20.” she replies bluntly. “20?” I ask shocked. The most i’d ever had was 8, that I know of at least. “Yep they ordered you for all night tonight and until 12 tomorrow.” she says before walking out of my room. Im gonna need more than this I think to myself. So I do more. Not only do I snort 3 lines but I shoot up 3 grams. Or at least I thought it was 3 grams because next thing I know, i’m dead. I overdosed. I never got my love and like an idiot I overdosed. All because I couldn’t handle a few more men. The only thing is… I didn’t die until 1 am. I wonder what all those men did with my body til 12. I bet they loved it.
