Little White Lies || Cricky [C]

1 | [Wh]ite H[or]s[e]

My hands were bound above my head, cold stone pressed against my bare back. Sweat dripped down my forehead, my breathing labored. He gripped my hips, digging his nails in. He was speaking but I wasn't listening. I just wanted him to finish so I could leave.

He slammed his hips into mine repeatedly, filling the dirty basement with sounds of skin slapping together.

I don't even know his name. I don't really care. He's just another body, another number, another source of income. He doesn't matter, nor will he ever matter.

It felt like hours but it was only minutes before I felt him release inside of me. He let out a deep groan, before forcing his tongue down my throat.

He pulled out, dropping me down. He unchained my wrists, allowing me to fall to the floor. I glanced up at him as he tossed a wad of cash at me. I picked it up and counted through it, before tucking it into my boot. I pulled my clothes on and headed out of the condemned house.

I walked down the street, glancing over my shoulder every so often. You have to be cautious in this area. You never know who— or what —could be lurking in the shadows.

I made my way down the street, to the run down apartment building on the corner. I pushed the dirty glass door open and headed up the stairs. The elevator was broken. It's been broken for years. The owners just can't be bothered to fix it.

I lived on the second floor, in an apartment that I shared with a few others in my line of work. None of us could afford it ourselves so we all pitched in and paid rent. I was friendly with a few of them, but I tend to keep to myself. I'm not a people person, never been. I just do whatever's necessary to survive.

I entered the apartment and immediately went to my 'room'. I use the word room very loosely, mostly because it was a small closet that I has claimed as my own. It had my clothes piled up in one corner and an old pillow in the other. Next to the pillow was probably the most important thing. It was a small box that held the one thing I lived for.

I kicked my boots y'all  off, keeping the money I made inside. I grabbed the box and opened up, pulling a small bag, a spoon, a lighter, and an empty syringe. I'd ran out of cotton a while ago and couldn't be bothered to buy more.

I emptied the contents of the bag into the spoon and held the lighter under it, watching it melt. I filled the syringe with the brown liquid and dropped the spoon on the ground. I used a belt to tie off my arm before pushing the needle into my arm. I released the substance into my body. immediately falling back against the wall. My eyes rolled back and I fell limp.

This is what I live for; the mind-numbing high that this drug gives me. The way a singular needle can fill me with so much joy. It's euphoric. It's better than sex.

I closed my eyes, allowing myself to drift into my high.

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did i just start another story that i probably won't finish??
you bet your ass i did.

tell me what you think i guess

~xxLux