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Chase walked. Deserted alleys her only company.
Her feet encased in stiletto boots hurt as they touched the ground. She sucked on her nicotine fix.
She wondered what it would be like not to have to walk the streets at night but cut the thought off before the Gods slapped her down for such lofty thoughts.
Head lights lit her briefly but died again, joining her lost dreams.
Cold wind whipped her short skirt up. If anyone had been around, they would have gotten a free preview. But no one was there to look. No one was interested in a two bit junkie selling herself for her next fix.
Twin mascara streaks the only adornment she had. A result of earlier reflection.
Cold wind pimpled her flesh as she stood waiting.
A sound. A car. Lights approaching. Slowing. Stopping. Blinding her.
She shielded her eyes. She knew who was there and why.
Hunter approached.
He grabbed her. He searched her.
He took the money, the couple of hundred bucks she had persuaded people to part with. Some willingly. Some unknowingly.
He snatched it. Hid it. He brought her close. Kissing her. Tearing off her top. Throwing her on the hood of the car. Pushing up her skirt. Forcing her.
Rubber tubing wrapped around her arm. A pinprick of pain. Blood mixing. Pink liquid.
Saviour and damnation entering her at the same time.
Hunter. Heroin. Heaven. Hell. Hope. Despair. White. Black. Everything. Nothing.
Distorted grunts as Hunter finished with her.
Falling forever.
A dull splash as a puddle claimed her. Lungs filling.
A hand pulled her out by the hair.
A command. Time to get back to work. Again.
Another string of words. Same time tomorrow.