2 pm - Fri.
Carmen's safe, thank God. Brittany found her half naked & in a stupor behind a dumpster in an alley near Hyde & Ellis. She remembered that Carmen had told her that she occasionally turns a trick there. My God. I've fought the Darkside my whole life, yet I can scarcely comprehend this. It sickens me - literally. Children, scarcely older than Kat, younger than I was in Peru, strung out on drugs, being humped in alleys like stray dogs, then just left to lie in the garbage.
Charlie's checked her out. She's pretty torn up. The guy was big & rough. He figures she's probably HIV+ too - either from the drugs or unprotected sex. But she won't go to the free clinic - she's afraid they'll send her back home, which she says is 10 times worse than the streets. She said in the streets at least she gets paid, gets the drugs, and feels no pain. At home it's apparently nothing but pain. Those bastards!
Did I waste my life fighting the wrong battle? There are monsters in this world without seeking demons. Sometimes, I think I lost sight of the fact that humanity needed no agent of evil to rise to the ultimate levels of wickedness. We are quite capable of doing it all on our own. Mother used to ask, "Where does human evil leave off & the wickedness of Hell begin? Or is it all the same - all part of one great evil?" Is there a seed of evil in our souls? Just as there is the seed of good? Why does one seed flourish & another wither? Is it up to us to maintain the balance, or is it preordained? I digress. I promised myself no philosophy today, no wandering mind sinking into a waking night terror. Only reportage of the mundane.
Christ! The mundane? I should be doing something. If I came forward now - no matter the consequences to me, to my House, to the Legacy - I might at least be able to get help for these people. The paper said that I told Rachel that God was a stand-up comedian & death was the blackest joke of all. I think I was wrong. I think life is the blackest joke of all.
When Charlie goes to the clinic to get his medication, he's going to try to get some extra items for Carmen and some antibiotics for me. He checked my neck and didn't like the look or the smell of it. He says I'm running a low grade fever too. The kid does a lot of good & has very little with which to do it. The staff at the clinic apparently know this & things sort of find their way into Charlie's pockets. The medical profession lost a fine doctor when he self-destructed. At least he's doing something for the betterment of lost souls.
XXX
Xena's not back. I hope she didn't take that $50 and lay it out on crack or heroin. My eyes are hurting. It's a quandary. I need the sun's bright light to see well enough to read and write, but it doesn't take long before the light begins to make them hurt. I think I'll sleep a while, if I can. Perhaps, that will quell the hunger pains & make supper come more quickly.
Tonight I'll eat my leftovers, then it's back to noodles. The dressing smells a little odd, but if I heat it on Charlie's hotplate, it should be OK. Scheisse! There I go again with food. It seems to be the only thing that truly distracts my mind from everything else. But once supper's come & gone, it's back to the darkness. It's a cycle of hunger, lonely, chaotic fear, darkness, and the search for blessed oblivion.
Please, God, don't let me dream. Grant me an hr. or 2 of oblivion & peace. I'm beginning to understand the lure of the drugs & cheap booze. I don't know how long anyone could survive in this world without them. Charlie said the longest he's seen anyone hold out once they hit this level is 6 weeks. I wonder, will that be my fate as well?
God give me strength.
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