The Handsome Helper

Chapter 2

The pavement like most pavements in Manchester, was lined with cigarette buds, old chewing gum and white bird shit. But I must admit it was better than walking on the hole filled road in these heels. They're cheap and uncomfortable but they look like shoes you'd find on the feet of a classy, independent business, woman.

Walking to the front door got harder every time I did it. But that day I was late so I opened the door and walked inside as quietly as possible. I stepped inside the dimly lit living room. The TV was off and I took it as a sign everyone was asleep. I stepped out of my cheap heels and bent down to pick them up. As I bent I felt someone's hips on me. They began moaning and saying 'oh yeah' loudly. I laughed and turned to face my hysterical best friend.

"He's not here Duch, loosen up!" She giggled

"Oh good" I say as I let my breath, I had been holding in since I got here, out.

"Beth got all dressed up and they went out" she said with obvious disgust.

"She's mental" Anaisy gave me a look that said 'you've only JUST noticed?' I laughed and walked to my little bedroom.

Anaisy in my opinion had always been the prettiest girl in the house. And believe me, there's a lot of us in this 5 bedroom hell. Most of the girls here were blonde, skinny and short. Anaisy on the other hand wasn't. She was tall for a 14 year old; she had chestnut brown hair that flowed to her waist and she was a little bit chubby. Some people swore we were twins, but I never saw it.

"Quick! Pass us the needle!" I slid the syringe to Ana and she stabbed it into her forearm. She exhaled loudly as she pushed the top of the syringe down. I lay down and let the warm feeling from my arm grow. Have you ever felt so excited you have a need to do something? Like on a Friday when it's last lesson and there's ten minutes to go you start getting a giddy feeling? That's the feeling heroin gives me. It also takes me closer to home.

Like my actual home, with my mum in London. Manchester is nicer but home will always be where my mum is. She's probably singing on stage at the local bar 'Cleverton's'. She loved that place like it was her home. But you would when it's where you met the love of your life. Yep, she met my dad at a bar. Back in the Stone Age people didn't care that you were 15 and drinking whiskey, as long as you paid and kept it down; the fact you were underage was just a minor detail.

But I'd give anything to live in the Stone Age; it'd give me a chance to meet my dad.

My dad died a solider at war the day his daughter was born. People used to say I should be proud, but it's difficult being proud of a dad that you'd never met. It's like being thankful for a toy you never got.

But that isn't why I'm here in Manchester. I was here because my mum couldn't afford to keep us both happy. She couldn't afford my uniform so I kept getting into trouble with the other kids, they soon threw me out because I kept fighting; I wouldn't tell them my mum spent her wages on keeping the flat. So my mum sent me to Manchester hoping one of her 11 brothers would keep me in school and inline. Her hope was lost when I entered this house. I couldn't even tell her, he'd kill me.

I sent my mum money from time to time; they have a little corner shop a few roads over. 'Money Gram' they keep me anonymous so my mum doesn't ask how I get all this money. Also, my uncle told her I'd got sick and died. I thought he wouldn't go as far as having a funeral but they did. I sat locked in my room tied to the bed while my mum sat in the next room howling my name. It's hard hearing your mum heartbroken. It's even worse when you can't do anything about it.

My uncle was one smart cunt. But I hoped, we'd be smarter one day. One day soon.