Hell in my eyes!

Hell in my eyes! [Chapter 02: Damned Past]

And so I sat amongst the passing of many faces, ones that I found unfamiliar, signifying my absence from this side of town. I guess being busy with home and work for a year can really make an impact but then again, I could care less, and that's comforting. I haven't changed too drastically, or so I hope. Besides, being an unknown was somewhat of a relief. That meant no routine comments like before.

‘She's begging again! Did her boyfriend forget to pay her for sucking him off? Does she want that much attention, she’s just a slut. She wants money for drugs again. ’

They were usually something of that extent, differing by reasons such as abortion, attention, drugs, and Alex. Yeah. Alex... I can't remember when or where we met, but he saved my life. Just thinking about him hurts, and the taste in my mouth becomes bittersweet. The sensation is overwhelming, but I do my best to surpass it once the time comes to mention him, which is never. It's not like I ever loved him. We were like that bubblegum sort of couple. We basically did the usual things that couples do: socialize, party, go out to eat and enjoy each other's company. Of course, Alex's band would play every so often and I'd get into the usual fist fight with some groupie bitch. Now that I think of it, it was kind of pointless. Alex and I only fucked once... Of course, we also had a few downfalls.

On the thirteenth month of our relationship, Alex found shit out about me. Shit that I wish I could say I couldn't regret. Since I was little, I lived with my brother Rick. We were really close. Amidst the darkest nights, I remember crawling across the rough concrete and cheap cotton blankets to whisper my fears and wildest dreams in his ear. Chills go down my spine whenever I think of his vaguely raspy, soothing voice telling me to wrest away the thoughts. But all of that changed when I hit puberty. My breasts were now filling up every bra we managed to steal, and curves were developing along the sides of my rather long torso. Of course, being tall does that to you sometimes.

Each eleven of every month even on my damned birthday, that was basically the reason I hated that day, I would feel a trail of hands crawling and grabbing along different parts of my body: from my neck, to my thighs, and in between my legs... These hands were coarse and rough, their possessors like mindless schoolboys. It was as thought I was the puppet and they were the strings. They controlled every organ in me, and if I disobeyed their rush of excitement, my punishments would become brutal.

The night that Alex found out was the night that was one of the last times I'd experience it. My back was taped up to the chair, my ankles knotted with rope. Cuts of blood streamed from my flesh, and a collection of bran new burgundy splotches crept up my legs and arms from fighting back. It was rape. Murder!

That was the last night I saw Rick and his gang, too, as Alex and his friends killed them. Some were stabbed to death. Some were shot. I still get a mess of emotions whenever I think of that. So I avoid it. It's just a bunch of fucking bullshit. We were able to eventually return to our normal lives, with the exception of me moving into his house where he lived with the band and his gang. I gained my bitch reputation in that very home. Everyone knew me as Alex's girlfriend, and because of that, nobody fucked with me. For once, I could whoop their ass, and to add icing to the cake, Alex could too. Hell, he was kind of that goddamn place! Without him the gang would die. And that's exactly what had happened. Days slowly passed, and Alex's presence gradually grew to betrayal. He had left us all behind for the other side, and I was a mess. Even thought I was and always will be physically strong for a girl in the bay area, my emotions were shit. I was a wreck without him, and I still don't understand why. It was as though he was a strong drug. My drug and I was in desperate need of another shot. That's when I met my secondary supplier: John.

I remember clearly that one damned night. We were in the living room me, John and one of his best buddies… He got up from the couch and went to his bedroom, I went too. I was curious to see what took him so long… And that’s when I saw cocaine… When he saw me, he grabbed my arm pulling me to the bed…We pretty much had sex… But then there was one day he was out of cocaine and he was really angry. I don’t remember what he asked me but he didn’t like my answer, next thing I knew I his hands were around my neck…I couldn’t breathe… I’ll never forget, never!

John was the gang’s drug dealer after Alex was gone, and because I was desperate and had befriended him, I had full access to anything and everything he sold. I took a lot of shit but when Alex had surprisingly returned, he wasn’t happy.

Long story short: John was shot to death. When Alex lost his temper, all hell broke loose. The memory is but a blur now and I miss John so fucking much but I do recall my sobs and our shouts towards each other. I do recall the gun he had pointed in my face and his declaration of him pretty much leaving us all as if it had not already been done.

A year passed on after that. I went to rehab to try and better myself, and as much of a struggle as it was, I managed to get clean. I've been sober for two years now, with the exception of my alcohol dosage... I had slept with a few men to have a home to stay in for the night during that time, and that's what I needed to do now. This time, though, I prayed that I wouldn't run into Alex again.

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