~I never dreamed that I'd meet somebody like you, and I never dreamed that I'd lose somebody like you~
Life's been hard on Dione Davies, driving her to the verge of death, from which she's been saved almost by a miracle. Leaving her past behind to...
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*4 years earlier*
"Please, please don't do this! I'll pay you back I promise, just need a little more time".
Pathetic.
That junkie piece of shit that's tied to the wooden chair in front of me, doesn't seem to want to shut up, and let me do my fucking line in piece. He jolts on the chair, trying to break free from his restraints in vain. I'm kinda the best in town at what I do, including tying people up, and he's about to figure it out. That's why the leader and his right hand never say no to any of my requests after all. They know there's not a chance of finding a better one.
"Will you just shut up? I'm kinda in the middle of something here", I tell him irritated by his constant whining from the moment we got here, with my back facing him. God, I should've put a bigger dose in his drink.
We're currently in an old basement, one single light bulb hanging from the dirty ceiling, barely lighting the space, with concrete from the floors to the walls. Bill granted it to me to be able to handle my business undisturbed. It's dark and smells like mould and blood, but it does the job nevertheless, since it's basically soundproof. I can't have passers-by hear all the screaming that's happening regularly in here now, can I?
With one finger pressing my one nostril shut, I bend on the old wooden table, and in one swift inhale, I take in the expensive white powder, ignoring the shitface's cries and pleads. What was formed in a perfect straight line before, shaped by the cross that's hanging on my chest, has now left white residue behind on the crevices of the table.
I instantly feel the influence of the heavy narcotic running in my blood, giving me that high energy I crave like a hungry animal. Fuck this is good stuff, John wasn't joking at all. And I'll very much need it if this scumbag keeps crying like a little bitch; I haven't even touched him yet.
The burning sensation spreading from my nose to my brain makes my eyelids shoot open. I give my head a little shake cursing under my breath at the strong drug. Now we're talking.
"Alriiight", I exclaim, shrugging off my shoulders the plaid sleeveless flannel shirt, dropping it on the table, and my t-shirt follows. Can't stain my white t-shirt with blood, I got places to be afterwards. "Now", I turn around to look at the sweaty man that's panicking more and more by the second. "Where were we... ?", I say tying my bandana around my head to keep my hair from falling into my eyes.
