Invading Thoughts

      “Oh yes, the past can hurt. But you can either run from it or learn from it.”

            -The Lion King
         

          In our lives there are some memories that just stick with us. They never go away. People say to forget the past, leave it behind. Tell that to my memories. Triggered by countless things. They always have a way of inconveniently popping up. And usually are quite unpleasant.

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              In the evening she was known as Rain. Rain was never considered “beautiful”. Never had a face other girls wished to possess or even admired. But she had a nice body, good smile of pearly whites, and was articulate. This night she was working a seedy club, dancing on their dirty red stage for fistfuls of sweaty dollar bills. Rain had shot up some oxycodone before work, with her husband at the time, and was now drinking the cheap rum allowed free for the working dancers. This night was heading faster and faster towards 2am, and barely enough money rubber-banded in her garter for the cab ride home. Rain wore 6 inch high platform heels that you just slide into with no ankle straps. She loved those shoes. She loved walking and dancing in them with her head held high. Rain was sipping on her cheap rum and watching the crazy white haired patron that always scared the girls. He was completely bald on the top of his head, and had long, snow white hair on the sides that grew out sideways instead of down. “Crazy hair” would always make loud animal noises while dancing erratically around the club, snapping photos of the girls on the stage with his phone. His waitress walked over to Rain and said he wanted her to join him for drinks. High and broke, Rain agreed, thinking “What the Hell.” After a drink or two and chatting complete nonsense, he offered to pay her $150 to take photos of her at his place after the club closed. Rain was young. Rain was addicted to heroin. Rain was broke. Rain agreed. The weird little man had no vehicle of his own, so they took a cab. Rain carried her messenger bag with a couple pairs of lingerie, black net knee highs, and her beloved 6 inch platforms. Creepy little guy’s house ended up being a few blocks from her own, the way only seperated by a busy small freeway. She does not tell him this. His house was a tiny, weird dump. It was cluttered on the outside with what looked like hundreds of rusty and decaying bike parts. Creepy little guy’s house was creepy too. There was an obvious camera mounted above his front door. Walking inside was no better. Bright red carpet covered in stains, dingy yellowish walls. A computer was on and the screen was split in sections showing what his outside cameras were picking up. He handed Rain $150 and showed her a bathroom to get undressed for the pictures. She went into the bathroom, put on her black booty shorts, black lace bra, thigh highs, and heels and stepped out. She was told to take off her bra, keep her panties and stockings on, and just act “natural”. “Wild hair” had placed a bottle of Kraken rum on a table with two cups. Rain sat down on a dirty brown recliner, took off her bra, and poured a drink. She drank, she smoked cigarettes, she played loud music. She went to the bathroom and peed a few times from the liquor consumption. She got really really drunk at one point, and hung on his shower rod in the bathroom and pretended she was a monkey. All the while, having this weird little man following her around, making his weird animal noises, and shooting pictures of her. Close to daylight, Rain was tired and had had enough. She said her goodbyes and that she needed to call a cab, her money was safely shoved in her stockings by her ankle. Rain went to go in the bathroom to throw her clothes on where she had left them. Her messenger bag with her heels inside slung over her shoulder. The creepy little guy turned really creepy. He snapped. He started screaming that she couldn’t leave yet, his hair flying around all crazy, his pale white face turned a mean red. Rain got scared when he threw down a heavy bookcase and threw a lamp at her. She ran to the front door, quickly unlocking the top turn lock and bottom knob lock, but before Rain could open it he grabs her roughly by the arm, trying to rip her bag off her shoulder. He is hysterically screaming for his money back, and dumping makeup that was shoved in the bag’s small front pocket all over his ugly carpet. Rain rips her arm free and pulls the front door open, while “Crazy hair” now has a fistful of her hair, snapping her head back. He is frantically trying to pull her back into his creepy little dump of a pad, Rain flings forward, shaking and pulling free, and feels parts of her hair ripped out of her scalp. She falls on his cement driveway, scraping the palms of her hands and her stockinged knees. It’s raining outside and the ground is slick and wet. Rain pushes herself up, and runs as fast as she can to the small freeway. She hears the man still screaming something behind her, but Rain does not stop. She does not look back. When she reaches the freeway, she is shaking and relieved. Circle K is open and the bright lights illuminating the small store are comforting. Rain is cold, wet, half naked and barefoot. She opens her messenger bag and pulls out her zip up jacket. She puts that on over her bra and panties, as fear starts creeping up again. Rain is half naked, drunk off her ass, arms covered in track marks, and with the rain pouring down, pretty sure the makeup she plastered on earlier is running off her face. If a cop stopped her before she could make it home she would look like a working junkie prostitute and be hauled off to jail. There would be no talking and flirting her way out of that one. Shivering, cold, and wet Rain started walking home as fast as she could, barefoot and scared shitless. After passing two banks, a mortgage company, and a 7-Eleven, she finally made it to her street. Rain’s fear is gone. She reaches her house. Rain was home. Rain was addicted to heroin. Rain still had $150 shoved in her soggy, wet black nylons. Rain shut her front door, leaning against it and felt relief. Rain could take a shower and not be Rain anymore. The soggy money would also ensure a day of no pain and sickness. Another day survived.

               Ash

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