The Window

by

Arecee

 

(Delete space) My wife says I'm a miserable son of a bitch and maybe she's right. She kicked me out last week, and now I have to live in this piece of shit hotel in the Tenderloin area of San Francisco.

She was whining because I seemed short with her, what the fuck does she expect from me? I have MS for God's sake. I had a very (Very is a meaningless word and just sucks the blood out of your prose. I've marked the ones you should consider deleting or changing. Like here. Instead of saying "very successful" you might consider prosperous or thriving.)successful contracting business but after "it" fucked me up, I had nothing. The bitch said it was my attitude, but what the fuck does she know? How would you like to wake up every morning and have to pull yourself to the toilet because you can't walk? She would try to help me, but fuck man, I can do it myself. So maybe I did snap at her once in a while, that's no reason to kick me out, fuck her, I'll get by on my own.

I'm not going to comment on your haphazard use of period, and commas and no semi-colons. It seems to work for this "journal. See "Last Exit Into Brooklyn" for example of similar open prose. It's okay to do this, but don't get carried away. You should probably use semi-colons when needed to separate two independent clauses in one sentence.

http://www.amazon.com/gp/reader/0802131379/ref=sib_dp_pt/102-9763091-4235367#reader-link

So anyway I live in this shit hole of a room and even the owners of the hotel don't give a shit that I have a disease that will kill me, well fuck them. I have a wheel chair to get around, but it really sucks when I to have to go to the bathroom, it's a common toilet for half the floor, and (delete extra space) if the stench doesn't get you the cockroaches will, and that's life in a yuk, yuk, (in a - yuk, yuk – toilet) toilet like this.

When I moved in, I had nothing to do, except feel sorry for myself, and why not? People don't care about me, I lost my wife and business and they couldn't care less, well fuck them, I'm really a nice person when you get to know me, the trouble is nobody wants to.

Getting back to my room, so someone, maybe you, gives a shit about me, let me tell you about myself. I was a contractor for God's sake. I made lots of money and I can't figure out why I lost customers, well fuck them, it's their loss. Sorry I forgot, I'm telling you about my room, if you want to call it that. It comes with all the amenities of the big hotels, you know maid service, once every two weeks and a bastard manager that WILL come to your room to collect the rent after it's late by two hours. Why I selected this cockroach infested hole is beyond me. As I think back maybe it was because it was cheap.

My room consists of a bed and a sink to wash my face. Why in the hell they couldn't have a toilet is beyond me, well fuck them, I'll piss in the sink if I have too. It wouldn't make it smell any worse in here than it already does. People bring home their fast food and throw the wrappers in the hallway to give the twice a month (twice-a-month) maid something to do. Anyway, my room has a bed and windows on two sides, so at least I have views. One window looks down to the main street and the other on to (onto) an alleyway. These buildings were built just after the great earthquake and for some reason they thought there would be a view. Well yeah, I love watching the side of a brick building, fuck them, at least the rent is cheap.

I moved in and found that the "innkeepers" couldn't care less about my MS, in fact they told me straight out that if my rent was late, they would kick my ass out. Well fuck those foreigners, they can kiss my white fucking ass, I'll get the fucking money to them, my wife will see to that, after all she wants me here as bad as they want the money, fuck all of them. I don't even know why you're reading this thing anyway because I'm sure you don't give a shit about me either, but this isn't about me, it's about the window. I'm only writing it down because I don't have another fucking thing in the world to do and my notebook is the only thing that hasn't fucked m yet. (an ellipsis is three dots separarted by a space me. . .yet )

As I was saying, my room looks across an alley to another hotel that obviously had high regards as to their stature in the world order, so they built a pair of windows on the alley side of the building hoping for a God's honest view of who knows what? Stupid fucks. All they have is me to see, at least I'm nor bitter about all this, fuck them, what do they know, how would they like it if they couldn't walk?

Getting back to the window, I can look over to the window and for some reason they don't have curtains. Could it be that the other hotel is too cheap to install them, perish the thought. Anyway getting back to the window, I can't go anywhere so I got in the habit of looking out my window into the hotel across the alley and tried to imagine what the lives of the people I saw was like. I knew theirs was better than mine, it was just a matter of how much fucking better?

The first person that I saw in the room was Whiskey Willie. I give everyone a name because I don't know them, so I just name them.

Whiskey Willie was an old man, although maybe not as old as I thought he was. I named him that because he drank a bottle of cheap rotgut everyday. (every day) He never ventured from his room other than to buy his bottle. The thing that struck me was that he had a picture of a woman next to his bed and touched it with the back of his hand every time he left the bed. The last time I saw Willie he kissed the picture and pulled it to his chest and fell asleep. The coroner came the next day and took him away. They threw the picture aside as though it was an inconvenience, but at least I knew Willie was finally happy and with the woman he loved.

I had thought of starting a drinking career of my own. The liquor store would bring it around so I gave it real thought. The idea that I could fuck myself up on booze and cherish a picture of the bitch who was forcing me to live here was sobering. I decided to invest a few lousy dollars into a cheap set of binoculars so I could upgrade my window peeping.

The next tenant was Dirk. Dirk was a kid, barely more than sixteen, if even that. He must have been a runaway. Willie hadn't been out of the room for more than two hours before Dirk moved in. I bet the mother-fucking manager had rent money from Willie and now he was collecting double rent, fucking bastard. Willie was getting fucked even though he had, yuk, yuk, checked (had - yuk, yuk – checked) out.

Dirk was a slight boy, I don't think he was more that five-three and shit maybe one twenty five in the weight category. I don't even know why I named him Dirk except maybe he needed a masculine name. The poor kid didn't have much, a few clothes, a toothbrush, a comb, and that was pretty much it.

I watched Dirk's room everyday and mostly him. He was kind of pretty for a boy. Poor kid probably got his ass kicked almost every day when he was in school. I know how it feels to be different. My ass stung just thinking about it. So anyway, Dirk would leave his room everyday for whatever reason and return with a sad look on his face. I finally figured out why he was sad because he pulled his wallet out of his pants and counted his money, which appeared to be around a hundred dollars. He finally came home with a smile on his face and a uniform for a fast food joint, I guess he must have gotten a job, good for him.

Well it seems that Friday came around and the rent was due for Dirk. The manager came to his room and held out his hand for his money. Dirk shook his head and pointed to the uniform and talked to the disgusting man and held up one finger. I guess that meant he got paid in one week. The manager shook his head and pointed to his hand. Dirk shook his head and looked very sad (you have become competitive with the "sads" in this paragraph and the one preceding. Change two of them.) as the man pointed to the door. Dirk sat down on the bed, I could see tears forming in his eyes as the manager turned to leave.

When he got to the door he turned and looked at Dirk and said something. Dirk turned white as if he had seen a ghost. He shook his head and then the manager yelled at him and pointed to the door and started to walk out. The manager started to close the door and Dirk called to him, lowered his head and nodded. The manager smirked and walked back into the room and removed his pants. He then took Dirks hands in his and pulled them to his penis and made Dirk stroke it.

The bastard, the fucking bastard, he was making Dirk jerk him off, for Christ's sake, he's just a kid. Well this went on for four or five minutes until the guy was real hard and then he forced Dirk's head down until his thing pushed against Dirk's mouth. Dirk seemed to shake his head as if to keep from having to open his mouth but then the man held Dirk's nose shut until he had to open his mouth to breath. When he did that the man shoved his disgusting hard on (hard-on) into the poor boy's mouth and held his head tight and fucked his mouth.

The man finally came and the sperm ran from Dirk's mouth onto the floor. Dirk collapsed into a heap. The man pulled his pants up and left without a word. Dirk was sobbing uncontrollably on the floor and finally dashed to the bathroom and vomited in the toilet. God, if I could've I would've killed that manager. Apparently what Dirk was forced to do satisfied the rent because he was living there for the next week. After that Dirk was never the same, his smile was gone as was his carefree attitude. He was able to pay the rent after that with cash so he didn't have to "it" again.

About a month later Dirk came home with several shopping bags and threw them on the bed. It was the first time I had seen him smile in a month. He opened them and started taking clothing out and laying them gently on the bed. There was a skirt, a small blouse, nylon panty hose, panties, a matching bra, and a pair of high-heeled shoes. Wow, Dirk has a girl friend and he's bringing her some gifts, was my first thought. Dirk removed his clothes as I watched, all the way down to his birthday suit, and then he put on the panties.

What the fuck?" I thought to myself, "What's this." (Either change thought to said or lose the quotation marks. I would go with (What the fuck? I thought to myself. What's this.)

The next thing he did blew me away, he wet his legs in the sink and put shaving cream on them and shaved his off his hair. I hate to say this because I've always been a man's man and I love chicks, but when he was finished his legs were gorgeous, God he had pretty legs. Next he shaved his armpits, damn if he didn't look like a girl when he finished. He then put on the bra and stuffed it with some toilet paper, rolled the panty hose up his legs and then opened a smaller bag. Dirk removed some makeup and went over to the faded mirror on his dresser. He must have done this before because he put this gunk on his face and when he was done, damn if he wasn't a pretty girl. Last he put on his skirt and blouse, slipped on his heels and walked up and down in his room.

(Delete extra space) He walked and sat, sat and walked, pretended to talk to someone, his hands were all over the place. This went on for hours until he looked like he would leave his room. He would walk to the door, open it, look out and then close it again. He did that over and over and then it appeared that he had gained enough nerve to leave and closed the door behind him. Maybe a half of a minute later the door opened and Dirk ran back inside his room. He didn't leave after that and finally removed his clothes and makeup and went to bed. This behavior went on for several days with the exception that Dirk would stay out of his room for slightly longer amounts of time. The longest was for three minutes and when he arrived back he was giggling to himself, God the kid is screwed up.

A week had past and from the look of determination on his face this was the big night for Dirk, he was going outside. He took special care getting ready, shaving his legs and underarms, doing his makeup and dressing. He was really pretty, and of course I felt as though he was my daughter in a sense.

My mind wandered from Dirk to when my life was better and watching my own daughter dress and prepare for a big date. Watching her become a woman was something I would never want to give up, daddies (Daddy's) little girl was growing up. Now (Delete Now as it confuses the past tense.) I regret the things I said to her in haste while feeling self pity for myself (Delete for myself – redundant). Tears filled my eyes as the memories flashed through my mind, I've been such a fool.

(Delete extra space) I cleared my eyes and watched as he left his room and figured he would be right back, but then I saw a flash of a girl on the street. I wheeled over to my other window and looked down and saw her walking, my girl had flown the nest. As she walked heads turned. Dirk was a beautiful girl, young and vibrant, seeking out the world like any teenage girl would. Her skirt was a little short and the blouse a little too tight, and the heels too tall for my little girl, God she was sexy. I had to think of another name for her, Dirk didn't make it for a girl, maybe a proper name like Sandra, I liked that, Sandy, what a sweet name. Sandy returned several hours later with more bags. I could tell by the color of them that they were more girls' clothing, pink bags and pretty black ones. My girl had gone shopping and she was returning with a smile on her face.

(Delete this sentence.) She had gone from being a sad little boy to a confident young woman (Delete this part of this sentence). She was a person with whom I couldn't speak and hurt with my tirades of hate and thus couldn't drive her away. I think I'm finding (I found) love again from watching the growth of this girl.

Sandy tried on all that she had bought, most of it way too sexy for my little girl but who am I to say. (?) Sandy did have one cute outfit that I did like, jeans and a nice top, atta girl.

Three weeks past and Dirk came home with a girl, not just any girl but one that was built like a brick shit house. Damn was she pretty and maybe a little slutty too. The girl was tall, she towered over Dirk and was wearing this miniskirt that showed her legs forever. Her blouse was open enough to see that she had some huge tits. When I first saw her all I could think of was Jessica Rabbit except nobody drew her that way, maybe a surgeon did and he was an artist. I'm thinking to myself if this girl doesn't make Dirk forget all about that girly stuff nothing will. He finally has a girl friend (girlfriend).

You could have knocked me over with a feather if I could still stand up when the girl asked Dirk something and he went to his closet and took out all his girl's clothes and laid them on the bed. She had Dirk strip and had him dress in his girl clothes and then did his makeup for him, fuck did he look hot when she was done. The girl felt Sandy's tits and shook her head and then had Sandy feel hers. The girl was talking to Sandy all the while pointing at her tits and then at his. When she was almost finished she took a bottle out of her purse and handed it to Sandy and said something to her and Sandy smiled while excitedly shaking her head. The girl hugged her and kissed her on the cheek, you know, one of those girl kisses.

(Delete extra space) The girl sat on the bed and had Sandy change into all of the rest of her clothes and when she reached the final outfit she walked to Sandy and kissed her. This wasn't the girly kiss she gave her earlier. This was an, I'm going to fuck your brains out (I'm-going-to-fuck-your-brains-out kiss. God I wished my thing still worked, this was hot. Sandy put her arms around the girl's neck and kissed back. It looked like a couple of lesbians making out the way Sandy was dressed. The girl took Sandy's hand and lowered it to her breast as she was kissing her and had her caress her breast. She reached for Sandy's dick and soon was rubbing it through her panties. She pushed her back and said something. After she did Sandra (Sandy) (review your use of Sandy and Sandra. You seemn to be approving here, but still call her Sandra.) removed all her clothes and stood there with her thing standing out at attention. The girl removed her top, (add comma and delete and) skirt, and her bra to free those gorgeous melons, God they were big. She then stood in front of Sandra (Sandy) and removed her panties. She took Sandra (Sandy) back into her arms and kissed her deeply taking his hand and placing it on her pussy, which I couldn't see with Sandra (Sandy) still blocking my view. (her. His girlfriend seemed to be placing Sandy's hand on the girl's pussy, but I couldn't really see with Sandy blocking my view

(Delete extra space) She moved Sandra (Sandy) to the bed and made her lie down and when she did, holy shit, I could see everything, for Christ's sake she had a dick, not just any dick, but a big one. She laid beside her only backward and took her penis in her mouth and Sandra took her the same way, God how could that bitch do that to my little girl. (?) After that I couldn't watch anymore, it made me sick.

After that day Sandra's friend would visit every so often and the results were always the same, dress in her girl's (girls') clothes and have sex. It pissed me off but there was nothing I could do about it and Sandra seemed happy.

As the months went by I could see a change in Sandra, she seemed to becoming more feminine looking and was taking a lot of pills. I was worried that she might be becoming a junkie but figured out that the pills were hormones because she was growing breasts. First they were small little pointy things, but as time past (passed) they grew much rounder, much like a girl in school. She's a very pretty young woman now and seems to really care about her looks. She seems to be having trouble hiding herself when she goes to work as Dirk, her breasts always seem to show. I'm proud of her, she loves to shop and has never brought a boy home with her and seems to be a very nice young woman.

Things changed when Sandra came home from work (one day) crying. She wasn't wearing her uniform so I knew she must have been fired. A boy with breasts might have been too unsettling for some of the customers.

As the week past, Sandra was herself full time, no more Dirk. She seemed happy but I could tell something was bothering her and finally figured out what it was when the manager came to her door looking for the rent. She knew what had to be done and serviced the bastard while he groped her breasts, God I'd like to kill the son of a bitch.

I wish I could at least yell at the son of a bitch (repetitive – maybe bastard) but my windows have been painted shut for the last decade or when ever (whenever) they had the place painted. My front windows open, but I doubt Sandra would be able to hear me over the noise of the traffic on the street below.

Sandra would leave in the morning and return at night always holding the help wanted ads. Everyday it was the same, no luck. I knew things were desperate when she went out at night and returned with a man and did him. He left money on the bed and when the door closed Sandra dissolved into tears, she had turned her first trick. She broke my heart that night, my sweet innocent Sandra had become a whore, not because she wanted to but by necessity. Sometimes the world fucks you up like that. I wanted to take her in my arms and comfort her and tell her I understood why she did what she had to do.

I called my wife today (delete today as it fights with past tense and isn't needed) and talked to her for a while, the incident with Sandra still had me upset and I felt better afterward. For the first time in a long while we didn't fight when we talked. I just couldn't feel sorry for myself. Sandra's life seems so much more important to me now than does my MS, I hope she survives this thing.

The next morning Sandy was out early paper in hand and returned that afternoon with a smile on her face. I guess she must have found a job. That night she went out again and returned with strange men again, I guess she had to make money before she starts (started) her new job. I hate that she turns tricks like that, she's much too pretty and I'm afraid some guy might hurt her. I can tell she dislikes what she's forced to do, I see no joy on her face when she's finished.

The following week Sandy didn't go out at night for the first time in days. She was walking around her room smiling and laying clothes on her bed. She would hold them up to herself and look in the mirror, lay one down and try another. She seemed satisfied and went to bed.

The next morning she was up before me. I usually don't sleep much past six in the morning and this morning was no exception. I saw a light in Sandy's room and saw that she was dressing in the conservative outfit she had picked out the night before. When she left, it was just before seven. She looked wonderful, clean and pretty, like a young woman on her way to work. When she returned that evening it looked as though she was walking on a cloud she was so happy. Sandy changed and left to get something to eat. She returned a little later and went to bed. Now (delete now) I knew she had a good job and didn't have to turn tricks anymore, I'm so proud of her.

My condition doesn't seem any worse, but now that I have Sandy to worry about I haven't really thought much about my MS. My wife thinks I've been nicer lately but isn't ready to take me back home just yet, and I don't think I could go back until Sandy's life is settled.

A month has past since Sandy started her job and she has been shopping much more lately. She seems to have matured a lot. Her taste in clothing has gone from sexy teen to that of a stylish business woman.( businesswoman) When she leaves in the morning she turns heads walking down the street to the bus stop. People in this neighborhood aren't used to seeing anything as nice as my Sandra (Sandy) and when she passes they stop what they're doing just to appreciate what a nice girl she is.

I watched everyday for her to come home from the bus stop to be sure everything was okay with her. It had been about six weeks since she started her job and a Mercedes dropped her off in front of her hotel. She exited the car and turned to thank the driver with a smile and a wave of her hand. This must be her boss, I mused. What a nice gesture to bring her home. This went on for several more weeks with the exception that they would talk a bit longer each day when he left her off.

I remember, it was a Friday night when it happened. It was the kiss. Sandy came home later than usual. It was several hours past the usual time the man would leave her off. The car rolled to a stop in a parking spot in front of the hotel and Sandy and the man talked for a while. Then the man reached over and pulled Sandy's head toward his and kissed her on the lips. She put both hands around his neck and him kissed back. It was the first time I had seen Sandy kiss anyone since she was seeing that girl a year before. She never kissed any of her tricks so I knew, this man was special to her, Sandy had a boy friend (boyfriend). She exited the car with one last kiss and went up to her room. When she entered she hugged herself and twirled around like a little girl, Sandy was in love.

As the next month past Sandy's arrival times became erratic. I finally figured out that she must be dating this guy. Some days she would arrive home right after work and others well past midnight. Each time he would drop her off, the kisses would start quicker and last longer. I was worried that she might get in over her head and I was right

It was a Wednesday evening around eight when they arrived in front of the building. The car parked and the man jumped out and opened Sandy's door for her. It was the first time I had seen the man other than his head. He was a tall, good-looking man around thirty-five years old. I think he's too old for Sandy but who am I to make a judgment about her choice of men(?) He helped her from the car and they walked into the hotel and then up to her room.

She opened the door and when they entered the room they embraced each other and started to kiss. This kiss wasn't like the kisses in the car, it was something else, it was lust. His hand found Sandy's breast and began to caress it and I knew she was his by the way she reacted. The man broke the kiss and the moved his mouth to her neck. Sandy was panting wildly now and started to remove the man's clothes, she wanted him. Sandy was able to free the man's penis and lowered herself to take it in her mouth. This continued until she finished him and then she just held him, she wanted to be loved so badly. All I wanted for Sandy at this point was for her to be happy and in love. I wanted her to be with her man, to be held, to be loved, but that wasn't to be. The whole love-making thing had lasted for less that thirty minutes and when the man was satisfied he pulled his clothes back on and left. At least he had the decency to kiss Sandy goodbye.

Sandy started arriving home earlier most days and her lover would go with her to her room and she would take care of him. She seemed happy doing this and was always smiling, she truly loved this man. He would always leave no later than nine except on the rare occasion that they would go out on a date. I could always tell they had been somewhere because Sandy dressed nicer than she did normal (normally) on workdays.

There were some things that were starting to bother me about this guy of Sandra's. He never seemed to see her on the weekends, only after work and then I put two and two together, he was married and Sandra was his mistress. The next time he came by I saw his ring, how I had missed it was beyond me, and knew I was right about the cheating son of a bitch, he was using my Sandy and what was worse she (Sandra) knew he was married.

I was pissed off again when my wife called. She wanted to know how I was feeling and I yelled at her again. I was so upset with Sandra and her choice of men I couldn't help myself. My wife became my verbal punching bag again because she was handy. She said that I was a miserable son of a bitch and that she was sorry she even reconsidered having me back again. I felt bad for what I had said to her but couldn't admit it to her or myself.

(Delete extra space) I had more important issues to deal with. Those issues had to do with Sandra. Why had I become so attached to Sandra, hell, she was just a boy that wanted to be a girl and yet there was something special about her. All Sandy wanted was to be a girl, not a slut to be used by men for their needs but a young woman proud of her sex and was trying to be like any other young woman and succeed in life. She wanted a decent job with a chance to better herself and find a man who would love her above all else. Nothing fancy, just a normal life for a sweet young girl. Sandy had become like a daughter to me. I had seen her grow from a sad little boy into a vibrant young woman on her way in the world.

I look at Sandy and reflect on my own life. She has shown me a quality that I am envious of, when she is down, she pulls herself up and doesn't wallow in self pity. I wish I could say the same for myself, the farther down I go the more I pity myself and yet from knowing Sandy as I have she has given me some small ray of hope that maybe I will change for the better someday.

Now though, she was being used by this asshole for his needs and I'm sure he told her that he loved her and would leave his wife and what ever (Whatever) else he had at home for her and the lonely kid believed him. What a prick, God I wish I could talk to her. For some God awful (god-awful) reason I felt a responsibility toward her and I don't know why.

It had been six weeks since he had first seduced Sandra and their sex had gone no farther than her satisfying him orally. That changed when they came home from one of their infrequent dates. I could tell he had been drinking, he wasn't sloppy but you could tell.

They began to make out and fell on the bed. He took her breast in his hand after lowering her dress from her shoulders. He began to lick her nipples and his hand found her thigh and caressed it slowly until he had reached her panties. Sandra was in such a state of bliss she apparently forgot that the man didn't know her secret. I saw the man flinch at first, but then he continued his seduction.

Sandra realized where his hand was and bolted straight up in the bed. She seemed embarrassed by his discovery. I could see the tears filling her eyes but the man was reassuring her and then she smiled and allowed him to continue. The man kissed and caressed her. He found some lubricant and rubbed it into her and then he slowly pushed his thing into her. I could tell she had never done this before because of the pain on her face as he entered. She had tears running from her eyes but then she started to look relaxed and finally a look of contentment covered her face, she had finally become a woman.

The man finished and when he fell out of her he said something to her and started to dress. Sandra pleaded with him but he pointed to his watch and then left her alone in the dark. She had given herself to a man for the very first time and then he just left her by herself, God what an uncaring jerk. Sandra rose from the bed and removed her makeup and then slipped under the covers on the bed. I knew she was crying, I wish I had been there to hold her. I wish I could have held anyone.

After that night the man wanted to fuck her all the time. No more oral sex. What he did was rushed, but I could tell Sandra liked what he was doing as she got used to his invasion. She had a picture of him on her dresser and kissed it every morning when she woke,. (delete comma)The girl was deeply in love. I was waiting for him to either leave his wife or leave Sandra, but what happened next was basically the end of Sandra's life as she knew it.

The man had just made love to Sandra and for some reason he didn't jump out of bed and leave. Maybe he's going to stay with her and his wife would be history. Boy was I wrong. The man reached into the pocket of his coat and extracted a bag with some white powder in it. He took a piece of paper and poured some of it on the paper and then rolled a dollar bill into a tube and sniffed it up his nose. He then offered some to Sandra, but she declined by shaking her head. He pleaded with her until she accepted his offer. After that they made love again, sniffed the drug and made love for a third time. From the look on Sandra's face she was satisfied beyond all her wildest dreams.

The man finally left, but Sandra couldn't sleep, she was too wired for that. The cocaine had left her in a state of euphoria and she needed more of something right now and her man had left. She put on some clothes and went to the street to walk off her high. She returned an hour later and went to bed. What she had done during that hour I will never know, but Sandra was never the same.

The fucking and cocaine abuse lasted for several weeks and finally ended when Sandra and the man had a fight. They were yelling so loud that I could hear part of what Sandra was saying. My front window was open and the whole street could hear them.

"You told me you were going to leave your wife!"

"Well I'm not!"

"Then what we're doing is wrong, I don't think we should be doing this anymore."

"Well fuck you then." He grabbed his coat and slung it on, "You were nothing more than a piece of ass," he spat at her as he walked to the door, "so don't bother coming back to work anymore." He yelled as left her room with a life shattering (life-shattering) slam of the door.

Sandra's face turned white. What had she done? She ran to the door and I could tell she was pleading with the man, but to no avail. She had lost her job, but even more than that she had lost her dignity.

Sandra was alone once more and I could see the despair in her face. My poor Sandra had done nothing to deserve what had happened to her, all she did was fall in love and now she was being punished for it. I thought life was being unfair to me but what was happening to Sandra went beyond unfair, it just wasn't right. My pain was mostly self-inflicted.

From there it was a downward spiral. Sandra would look for a job but had little success. Without a proper education she really couldn't expect more than that. She also started using cocaine everyday. (every day) This forced her to start prostituting herself again. Because she looked so good she was turning ten tricks a night and most of that money was going for her drugs. The long hours were taking a toll on her and her looks as well. Her income fell and she couldn't afford the high quality drug she so much craved so the switch to crack became inevitable. She had become a crack whore in the short span of one year.

Some guy moved in with her and she was supporting him also. He was out of his mind on drugs most of the time. I finally saw him inject himself one day and knew he was using heroine. Sandra would bring home a trick and the doper would hide in the closet while she sucked him off. When the trick left her boyfriend would take the money and leave long enough to score some more drugs. This cycle lasted until one of Sandra's tricks grabbed her and found out she was a boy and beat the crap out of her. I thought she was dead and called the cops on the payphone at the end of the hall. They came and took her away to the hospital but she returned the next day with bandages on her head. The first thing she did was take a hit of crack. Her face showed she was in pain but she removed her bandage and went back on the street and returned with a trick an hour later. After the guy left she pointed to her head and her boyfriend said something to her so she held out her arm and he injected her with something. She passed out and when she woke she returned to the street. After that the Sandra (Sandy) I knew was gone. Sandra began injecting herself several times a day, obviously with heroine and smoked her crack. She was arrested three weeks later for prostitution on the street in front of the hotel but was out on bail four hours later.

The first thing she did was take more drugs and then turned more tricks. Her tricks were becoming more disgusting by the day. When she first started this thing she seemed to discriminate less as the guys had been young and good-looking, but now most were fat, old, and repulsive. You could see the sweat on their bodies as they walked into the room and let Sandra undo their pants and stick their penis in her mouth. She was quick, but her prices went down with her looks.

I had gotten to the point that I felt nothing but sadness as I watched her whither away. She was barely able to find a man wanting her to service him, and she needed the drugs that had become her life.

Her final day came in December. It had been raining since morning and the sun hadn't shown for days. There was a cold darkness everywhere. I had grown weary watching Sandra destroy herself, and my MS had worsened, but I had come to the realization that my life still had some quality to it unlike the hell Sandra was living in. I had finally realized that my self-pity was as destructive and addicting as the heroin.

Much to my amazement I saw Sandra remove herself from the bed and bathe that day. When she finished she made up her face looking almost like the Sandy I had grown to love so much. She found her nicest lingerie and dress and put it on and walked to the bed.

I guessed what was coming next and began beating on the window pane hoping to distract her, but to no avail. Her window was closed to keep out the cold so she couldn't hear me, or didn't want to.

She took a spoon and put her drug on it and lit a candle to heat it. Next she tied off her arm with a hateful band of sort and took a syringe and filled it with the drug and injected it in her vein and released the band on her arm. She lowered herself onto her bed and closed her eyes. Her body jerked in convulsion as she took her last breath, Sandy was gone. I wept openly as my dear daughter I loved so much died.

Three days later I called my wife and asked her to come see me. I showed her this journal and told her all about Sandy. My words called for forgiveness. Her eyes opened to the changes I was willing to make to get away from my self-hate. I seized the opportunity and begged her to take me home. Her face lit in a smile I hadn't seen or cared to see for years.

The End

  

  

  

*********************************************
© 2006 by Arecee. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, and compilation design) may be printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without the express written consent of StorySite and the copyright holder.