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My Happy Ending

Om det sørgelige livet til en prostituert rusmisbruker.
Sjanger:NovelleLastet opp:04.04.2005
Verktøy:Utskrift   Del på Facebook

My name was Crystal. Never really liked the name. Didn’t shine like a crystal at all. The only thing I had in common with my name was that both were invisible. At least now…


I’m going to tell you the story about my life. The story about my happy ending…


It all started 21. April 1984. I was born into a world of failure… My mom gave birth to me alone in our living room. Never met my father. He was just a lay I guess, so my mom never spoke of him…


I don’t remember much from my childhood. All I remember is this little girl, alone, with tears in her eyes, trying to cover the world she knows with her long, brown hair over her face… That was me…


My next memory is from when I was about eight years old. I had snuck out to smoke one of my self-made joints. I was standing right outside our apartment when my mother caught me. I thought she was going to get mad, but instead she said: “If your gonna make a joint, you better learn how to roll it proper!” She stayed up all night, teaching me how to roll it right. That was nice… I loved my mother although she was a junkie…


When I was 14 I’ve got my first boyfriend, Tommy. I don’t know exactly how it happened. We were best friends, used to do drugs together… Then one day, he kissed me. I cried a lot that night. I never felt worthy of anyone’s love…


We had discussed sex a lot. I wanted it to be special the first time, and it was. It was with the person I loved the most in this world. We were together for three years. We talked about getting married someday. We talked about the future. We talked about quitting all of the drugs and shit…


I remember one night… It was on my 17th birthday. Both of us promised each other that we were going to take one last shot of heroin. I remember the calmness in my heart when I felt the blood absorbing the heroin. The entire body felt warm and confident. We made love, and fell a sleep. The next day he wouldn’t wake up. He was dead…


We had promised each other not to do drugs, and I wanted to keep that promise so bad. My entire body screamed for more. I had trouble breathing, relaxing, focusing; it was like living a nightmare.


I was clean for four months. My mother tried to help me by not taking anything in front of me anymore. She was almost never home. One day I came home from school, I found her in the living room. Her eyes were shut, and the hand with the needle in were just lying there, open and lifeless… I threw my self over her body and tried to wake her up, but she didn’t move. I called the paramedics… It was an OD.


When they told me, I ran. Everyone I’ve ever loved, died. I was all alone. I ran as fast as I could to nowhere. I found myself standing in front of an old friends house. I knocked. I couldn’t take it anymore. I needed something, anything to make me forget, right now. And I knew she had what I needed…


It was on, again… I felt warm and confident, again… I had quit school, and moved in with the old friend, Felicia. I was 18, and she was one year older, so she had her own apartment. To pay the rent, and the drugs, she had to walk the streets… A prostitute. Felicia told me that I had to make money as well, so she helped me find my first client…


I remember being so nervous. Felicia told me that I could have one of her regulars because he was ok. I sat down in his car. He smiled while checking me out in the front mirror. I felt sick and disgusted. I was just like a peace of meat, an object… The car stopped in front of a big, white house. He opened the car door for me, and walked in front of me all the way up to the front door. He was about 40, good-looking business guy. “My wife will be home in three hours, so we got lots of time”. He gave me a perky smile and walked me into the bedroom. He started to take his clothes off and gave me a look that told me I’d better do the same… I took off my clothes too, and lay down on the bed. He laid himself on top of me, and asked if this was my first time with a client. I said yes, than he smiled and added “a clean whore”. I closed my eyes and felt him push his way inside me… I blocked it out. Tried to think of Tommy. I had deceived him. I hadn’t kept my promise. A tear came down my cheek. It burned as it slowly slid it’s way down. I opened my eyes, and it was over. The client sat on the bedside, buttoning hid shirt. “Here is your money” he said and threw 30$ on the bed. I grabbed the money and ran home…


Felicia was up, waiting. I came in the door and saw her in the coach. “I’ve filled the bathtub for you… Figured you wanted to wash off”. She looked at me, trying to press out a friendly smile. I thanked her, and went into the bathroom. I started to cry again. No matter how much you scrub, you can never wash away the guilt and the feeling of being used and dirty… I remember lying in that tub for hours with my eyes all swollen up from all the tears.


At least I could afford an other hit, just enough to make me forget about this world…


For each time you sell your self, you lose more and more of your personality. In the end you just don’t give a fuck… You’ve become an emotionless machine.


This lifestyle went on for about a year. I was 19 when my turning point came…


Felicia and I went out as usual to our corner. A little wreck of a car pulled over, and Felicia ran over to it. She turned and smiled to me, and went inside it. They drove away… If I didn’t get a client soon, I would die. I felt so bad; I hadn’t taken anything for two days. I looked like shit. We always took clients who looked like they were a little nice… Many of the girls on the street never returned, and a few days later; the word is out: They were killed… So it’s a dangerous job. But right there and than, I didn’t care. I needed some money. A car pulled over. I went over to the car window and smiled. The man were big, balled and didn’t smile at all. Normally I would have said no to him, but I was desperate…


He drove into a forest. He parked the car, and locked the doors… My heart was pumping like crazy. I was scared and knew something was wrong… He told me to go sit in the back. I didn’t dare to protest, so I climbed over. He followed. Then he ripped off my clothes. I tried telling him that I wanted the money first, but than he just gave me a punch in the face. Everything went black. I guess I were out for a while because when I opened my eyes, he was on top of me, fucking me… I felt dizzy after the punch, so I didn’t think much about it. When I came back to my self, I tried pushing him off. He was harsh and it hurt. I think I even bled because I felt this burning sensation. “Stop, please stop” I screamed… He got even harder, and gave me another punch. I blacked out.


When I woke up, my sight were kind of red… The blood was dripping all over my face and into my eyes. I couldn’t even open my right eye. I tried opening my lest one and saw the man still sitting on top of me… “Die you filthy whore, you don’t deserve to live!” His whole face was covered with disgust and anger. It felt like it was a heavy brick on top of my lungs. I was short of breath and struggled to inhale… I knew it would all be over soon… I felt warm. Like I was on something. Soon I wool be in heaven with my mom and Tommy…I hoped he could forgive me and let me get a new start. I smiled. Hoping it would be over soon…


I took my last breath, closed my eyes and felt my soul slip away…


This was my happy ending. In the end I was finally free. It was over…

Kommentarer fra brukere

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07.01.2006 12:55

Meget bra skrevet d må jeg si

25.01.2006 00:08

jepp enig der asså. sinnsykt bra skrevet!!!  Smile :-\)  Smile :-\)

07.03.2006 16:49

kjempe bra skreve, blei veldig rørt må eg sej...!

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