A Forgotten Tomorrow (6 page)

I can’t stay away from this calm feeling, even though it’s brief. My dreams seem to be much more vivid than usual, and I don’t understand why. Oh well, right now I can’t worry about that.

I take in more, hoping it will take me away…

I can’t help but love the feeling meth brings to me. I was unsure of even trying it the first time and I don’t like to admit it, but I’ve become increasingly dependent on the substance to carry me through each day.

I didn’t see Elijah for a while, for at least three weeks after he began working with Jon. I felt lonely, and it was almost excruciating. In a way I’d probably got used to relying on Elijah and his company, so when the days passed by without me seeing him, I didn’t know what to do.

The day I first experimented with meth was around the first time I saw Elijah since our initial talk with Jon. I had managed to speak with him over the phone occasionally, but that didn’t compare to how close we used to be. Anyway, it wasn’t too often that I had spare change to pay for a pay phone.

It was freezing outside, which didn’t help the unsettling feeling I had either. For those three weeks I went directly to the bridge by Flannigan’s after work, and stayed there for most of the day. It was too cold to move, so I stayed under my blanket. Even so, the cold managed to sneak through the fabric, making my body feel tense and rigid.

I stole an old rusted barrel from the pub, which I used to keep me warm. I gathered trash from their dumpster – as gross as that sounds – and used it to light a fire. I would light my cigarette, and when I finished, I’d flick it into the tiny barrel that sat only a few feet from me. At first I was paranoid that a spark would fly out and catch me alight as I rested. But I got used to it.

I was excited to be seeing Elijah again and to hear his stories about how things were going with Jon, even though I still didn’t agree with him working that way. I was bored too, and figured his company would take me out of the depressed state of mind I was in.

At that point work was very scarce, which left me very short when it came to money. I tried to stretch it out as much as I could, only eating once a day and maybe showering twice a week. That sounds gross, I know – but I needed to eat more than I needed to shower. I just got used to smelling like stale smoke and the old, overpowering smell of body spray.

As I tossed my finished cigarette into the trash-filled barrel, there was a whooshing sound as the garbage caught on fire. In the midst of the crackling flame, I heard footsteps crunching across the gravel.

His strut and confident grin was something I had missed, and until that day I hadn’t realised how much. His Bose
headphones were still attached to his ears, and his hands were in the air, motioning to the beat of the music. I remember laughing silently, thinking that some things will never change. His appearance had certainly changed though. He looked better than ever.

“My girl!” he shouted, once he noticed me sitting there watching him.

It was then that I felt myself looking at him in a way I shouldn’t have, and I was positive my smile would reveal what I was feeling.

“Damn, Jah! Where have ya been?” I joked. “Really, I thought you disappeared off the face of the earth.”

With his arms wrapped around me, I felt it. I felt everything. His absence somehow made my feelings for him grow into something more than just friends. I didn’t want to let go of him, ever. But I had to.

“You know how it is, all work and no play,” he said, while ending our embrace. He backed away from me a little, and in his suave way, brushed his hands against his shirt. “Notice anything different?”

For a moment all I could do was look at him. He looked good, really good. His new, white hooded sweatshirt made his long, gold necklace and diamond stud stand out.

“New clothes I take it?”

“Yep. And this,” he said, pointing to his ear.

“I noticed. Is that real?”

“You are asking me if it’s real?” he laughed, “Come on Van, you know me better than that. Of course it’s real. I worked my ass off for it, but it’s worth it. All nice things come with a price.”

“That’s for sure,” I responded. “It’s so good to see you.”

For a few minutes all seemed normal once again. His company was the best. He could always make me laugh, no matter how horrible a day I’d had.

As we sat next to each other, huddled underneath the blanket, I felt his hand slide into mine. I tried my hardest not to act surprised, but I was surprised. And I liked his hand there.

Anyhow, we talked about a lot, about how things were going with me, and how Elijah’s new-found work was going. He told me that he’d worked almost every day for those last three weeks, including daytime hours. I was a little upset because he’d skipped school for an entire week. He tried his best to assure me that it was okay, and he wouldn’t fail. I tried to believe him, even though I knew that school was not his priority. In his mind he thought that because he was making good money, why should he worry about school? I really wanted him to finish, but it wasn’t my choice.

“Oh yeah, I almost forgot,” he said abruptly, reaching into his pocket. “I have something for you.”

He pulled out a wad of cash from his pocket, and went through it for a moment, counting out hundreds. He ended up giving me a couple of hundred, which I tried to hand back to him.

“Elijah, I can’t take that from you.”

“Oh come on, why not? I know you need it. And besides, there’s more where that came from,” he laughed.

“I don’t know. I don’t think it would be right of me, ya know?”

“It’s no biggie,” he said, shoving the wad of cash back into his pocket. “Go get yourself some new clothes or somethin’, or umm – take a shower?”

“Ha ha, very funny,” I said, accepting the money. “I feel bad, though.”

“No problem, really. Don’t go thinkin’ I’m gonna be doing that all the time though,” he smiled.

I couldn’t believe he gave me that much money. Don’t get me wrong – I appreciated it, I was just surprised. I didn’t want him to think that because he was making good money, he had to support me.

It was then that it started.

“One other thing,” he said. “We need to celebrate.”

“Celebrate what?”

“Me, of course.”

“You?”

“Yeah. Celebrate how well I am doing – thanks to my girl,” he smirks.

“Whatcha wanna do? We should have lunch. You know I’m all about the grub!” I laughed.

“I brought something,” he started. “Before I show you, though, just know that it will be okay. I’ve had a few personal treats, and it was never noticed. A little bit won’t hurt.”

“What are you talking about?”

Elijah reached into the pocket on his sweatshirt and pulled it out, a small
zip-lock
bag filled with white powder.

“This,” he said, holding the bag for me to see.

“I don’t know about that, Jah. What is it? Coke?”

“Nah, nah – it’s meth. It’s all good though, Van. One time isn’t gonna getcha hooked, and it’s an awesome feeling.”

“You tried it?”

“Yeah. I was bored one night while I was out working near 26
^th
Street.”

“If Jon knew that, he would be pissed! You better be careful with that, ya know?”

“He’s not gonna find out, it’s only a little. And besides, that dude loves me.”

“Not enough to let you take money from him,” I joked.

“It’ll be okay.”

“I guess.”

The tiny bag was packed tight and filled to the brim with powder. I was nervous. I wasn’t sure how I felt about it, but I didn’t think one time would hurt.

I watched him intently as he placed the bag between his legs. His eyes were fixed, trying to keep the bag level. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny mirror.

“Hold that for a sec,” he said.

Silently I sat there and watched what he was doing. I had to hold back, fighting the
giggles about to escape my lips, as he reached his hand inside the bag and picked up a little of the powder. I remembered watching some things on television about cocaine, so I thought he was going to do something elaborate or sophisticated – instead he used his hand. He put a pinch of powder on top of the mirror, separating it with a small rusted razor blade, and then lined it up.

To me, it didn’t look like a lot, so I trusted his judgment that it would be okay. I couldn’t imagine Jon noticing that it was gone, or anyone else for that matter.

“Ready?” Elijah began.

“I guess so. How do you do it?”

“It’s simple. Watch.”

He pulled out a dollar bill, rolled it tightly, as if it were a straw, and held it over the powder-covered mirror. He glanced over at me and smiled before deeply inhaling the powder through his nose. Quickly, the line was gone.

“Damn! All of it? Isn’t that too much?” I asked.

“Nah, that’s a normal amount.”

Elijah reached into his bag and grabbed a little more of the powder, placing it on top of the mirror. He lined it up quickly and handed me the rolled bill.

“Use it like you would a straw.”

I sat there and looked at the powder. It was all new to me then, so the thought of snorting that stuff up my nose made me nervous. But instead of asking any more questions, I leaned down and took all of it in.

My nose immediately itched in an unfamiliar and peculiar way. My body still felt normal, but then again I wasn’t exactly sure of what I was supposed to be feeling.

“How long does it take to hit?”

“Just lay back and relax. It will only take a few minutes.”

After that, Elijah and I laid next to each other, silently. He lit a cigarette, then once again placed his hand in mine. My mind started to drift, and a smile came upon my face as my body began to relax.

That was the first time I’d felt completely and thoroughly happy. I remember, even at that moment, wanting to feel like that every day. That was the beginning of my journey with meth.

I come awake in the alley, not panicked, but disoriented. My head is pounding, but at least my shakiness has subsided. I don’t remember feeling as upset as I was earlier for a long time. It’s like my own memories are stalking me.

It’s pitch black outside and I’m late for work. It’s the last thing I want to do right now; I’d rather sit here and sleep, but
I’m broke. I need cash for food tomorrow, and maybe I can get my hands on some meth. I’m sure it won’t be that hard to find someone who can give me a bag, even if it’s only twenty dollars worth. I need it.

My mind is starting to drive me insane.

It’s 4:20 in the morning.

I just woke up. I am lying on a cruddy motel room floor. My vision is foggy and I have the worst headache, more painful than any headache I have ever experienced. I’m a little disoriented and feel like I have been asleep for days, but judging by the alarm clock on the nightstand it has only been about an hour.

My night started off okay, I guess. I had a nose bleed that lasted for about two hours, so until it stopped I walked up and down Benz Street with a tissue plugged in my
nose. Needless to say, the nose bleed made it difficult for any man to find me appealing. But when it dried and I managed to wipe the blood off my face, the men rolled in, one after another.

I was picked up by a few different men, one of them being a regular. The first two weren’t so bad. Like I said before, what I do disgusts me, but they were pretty well mannered and didn’t treat me like a piece of garbage.

The second pick up was a quick job. We stayed in his car the entire time. He didn’t talk much, either – just drove around while I did what he asked. Gross.

My third and last client of the night was the asshole who left me in the state I’m in now, in this mess of a motel room. It was maybe two hours ago when this nasty man picked me up. When he pulled up next to me I had a gut feeling that he was a weirdo, and I should’ve followed my instincts. But instead I thought about the money. It’s too late for that now.

He had a nice car, a Mercedes SUV to be exact. Normally I would think a nice car like that would hold a decent person, but not this time. When I say decent, I mean more normal than most of the men that stalk this side of town.

Anyway, in his own way he was attractive. He was clean shaven, his hair was spiked in the front, and he was wearing a designer silk suit. Why he was dressed like that at 2am is beyond me, but he was.

From the moment he began talking to me I had a feeling that he was not a person that I wanted to be alone with. He was talking about some freaky stuff, like chains, whips and blindfolds. That is not my thing at all. Judging by his wedding ring, it’s not his wife’s thing either – that’s why he was out on the street looking for it.

It’s obvious that I decided to join him, because I’m lying here on this dirty floor. I shouldn’t have got into his car, but I did. I couldn’t resist the couple of hundred dollars that he was offering. I have never been
given that much money by one person. Hell, I am lucky if I make that much from one night’s work. On most nights I only manage to make thirty to forty dollars, which is nothing. That small amount of cash used to take me a lot further – before I started using – but now it’s enough to grab a bite to eat and a pack of cigarettes. After that, I have a few more bills to spare that I could use for something else – but I need to save as much as I can. Like I said, Elijah used to be my supplier; he would give me meth for absolutely nothing. Now that he’s gone, I need to pay my own way.

Once I got into his car he immediately sped off. The interior was as immaculate as the outside of the car. It was fully loaded with XM Radio, a DVD player and leather seats. I tried not to look around, because I didn’t want to make him suspicious of me in any way, but I did manage to spot a small duffle bag on his back seat. That is where the horrendous night began.

He drove me to a motel fifteen minutes away from Benz Street – a motel I didn’t
even know existed. I remember thinking that I had no idea where we were, and for the first time in a while I felt lost out there on the street.

The inside of the motel was like any other ratty motel in the area – dirty. The carpet and bed linen probably hadn’t been cleaned for a while, as well as the toilet seat in the bathroom – it was covered with urine stains. The smell of stale smoke consumed the room and the lighting was dim, immediately giving the place a miserable feeling.

I couldn’t understand why a man like him, obviously full of money, would want to stay in a room like that. I mean, he could afford better – at least a hotel that kept a maid service on duty every day. But perhaps he wanted a mangled room for his odd fetishes, or maybe he didn’t think a better one would suit a girl like me. All the same, it didn’t make sense.

Once in the room, he simultaneously took off his jacket and collared shirt, and
threw the duffle bag onto the bed. I stood there watching him as he silently dug through the bag. Normally I would be the one to take action, but this was completely different. I had no idea what to say or do.

Silently, he motioned for me to sit on the bed. His gaze was suddenly terrifying, especially when a smirk appeared upon his face. It reminded me of stinky Johnny, immediately bringing a nauseating feeling to the surface.

He pulled out a weird piece of lingerie and handed it to me. Without asking any questions, I quickly took off my clothes and put it on, at the same time trying to settle my stomach. There wasn’t any talking going on between him and me, which disturbed me. He just motioned with his hands, indicating to me what he wanted me to do.

The night got even weirder when he took out a blindfold and a small whip. I wasn’t sure who was going to use it and that made me nervous, because surely I didn’t want
to get beaten with that thing. My nerves calmed a little though when he put the red satin blindfold on himself. I figured I would be smacking him, which didn’t bother me as much as the alternative.

To cut a long story short, the first twenty minutes were okay. He did have me whip him, which truly wasn’t that bad. At first I was uncomfortable, but after a few minutes I swung that thing against his skin like I was taming a horse. The way he enjoyed it made me feel queasy. His sick yelps and moans each time I hit him was the worst part. I kept thinking – what am I doing? Money talks though, and I couldn’t pass up two hundred dollars.

When he said he was finished I thought my job with him was done – oh, how wrong I was! The smile on his face revealed how pleased he was. I couldn’t understand it. He didn’t even seem to mind that his back was bleeding. Anyway, he took the bandana off and immediately tied it around my head. I didn’t like that.

“What are you doing?” I asked, trying not to sound panicky.

I tried to take the bandana off, but couldn’t. He didn’t acknowledge my question, just grabbed my arms and pulled them out from underneath me. I couldn’t get away from him, or even get off the bed. Within seconds, my arms were tied to the bedpost, and my legs did their own thing as I kicked the air hoping to reach his face. All the time, he never said a word.

I tried everything to get my arms out of the knotted rope, but couldn’t. I tried to use my voice before something bad happened. It didn’t work.

“Please, let me go. I did what you asked and I really need to get back.”

“Not yet,” is all he said to me. The first words he’d spoken since we’d got to the motel.

I squirmed and I yelled, and he got mad. Suddenly, I felt something smash against
my face. I’m not sure if it was his fist, but it definitely was his hand, and it hurt – bad. Right away, my right eye started to swell. There was second blow to my head, and another. I begged for him to stop, but he didn’t care.

He smacked me around for at least ten minutes, although it felt like hours.

By the time he was finished, or I thought he was finished, I felt like I had been hit by a truck. I couldn’t see anything, I could hear him standing above me, panting like a dog. I was crying silently under the blindfold, praying that the night would end.

After that, the rest of the night was a blur. I know that he raped and beat me no end. I know that people would think that saying rape is probably crazy considering my job, but I did tell him to get off me, and he didn’t listen. I have never had that happen since I’ve been out here on the street. I can’t believe I got into his car, either – that was stupid. Money rules the world. And I’m more naïve than I realised.

I am still lying on the floor, unsure of how I got here, next to the window. I’m still shaken up about what happened, and my anxiety level has shot through the roof. It’s difficult to steady my hands, and my head is killing me. At least my vision has cleared a little, allowing me to see my surroundings.

The room is in a bad condition, worse than how it was when we first got here. The bed is a mess, blood is covering the sheets.

I have finally managed to stand up, but I have to hold onto the nightstand just in case I become wobbly and lose my balance.

I try to avoid vomiting as I search the room for my clothes. After five minutes, I find them, extremely wrinkled and rolled into a ball, in the corner by the dirty bathroom.

Strategically placed next to my clothes are the blindfold and rope. He must have placed them there, the asshole. I can’t find my money anywhere. Not only did he beat and rape me, he left me here without even paying what he’d promised.

It goes through my mind that he could’ve killed me. I really think that if he’d kept on going, it would have happened. He managed to beat me unconscious – so death wasn’t too far away.

My memory searches for Elijah’s comforting eyes. I can’t stop crying. I don’t know whether it’s because my head hurts so badly, or if I’m going through withdrawal, or if I just miss Elijah that much.

Without him, my days only seem to get worse. Maybe tonight’s events wouldn’t have happened if he was still around. I know he wasn’t my protector, but emotionally he gave me a lot. With his friendship I didn’t feel so alone or helpless. Without it, I don’t seem to care about anything at all. Maybe this is who I am. Maybe this life is all that’s left for me.

Why, Elijah? Why did you have to go?