The Lotto
Doug C. Grubbs
Lacy awoke with a start.  Her heart was racing and it felt like her brain was trying to escape through her eyes.  She looked to her left arm, expecting to feel pain, but there was none.  There wouldn�t be any, not for an hour at least.  Her make-shift tourniquet was still wound tightly around her biceps, cutting of the flow of blood to the rest of her arm, which was now a dull shade of purple tinged in blue.  Near the inside bend of her elbow a needle still lay, it had torn a hole in her arm that had already began to heal.  She pulled it out and the wound re-opened.  She undid the belt around her arm and a trickle of fresh blood flowed from the rip in her flesh.  It was another day for Lacy.

She looked around her apartment, looking for something to focus on, to bring her out of the post trip haze.  Her eyes grazed over the couch across the room, stains covered nearly all of its cushions.  Then she trailed off to the peeling wallpaper.  It too was stained, so bad the that the original pattern was barely recognizable in parts.  The floor around her shared traits with the wallpaper and couch as well, a new moist area under her signified that a new stain would be there in a matter of hours.  It made little difference to Lacy though, she had become desensitized to her filth, not that she could have done anything about it anyway.  

Her eyes began to focus and she risked standing.  Taking one step at a time she made her way to the kitchen.  She thought about food, but she wasn�t particularly hungry.  On the counter was some change,  five quarters and a nickel.  She thought for a moment, about what to do with the money.  There was enough for a box of Macaroni and Cheese, or a Lottery Ticket.  A quick glance at the opened refrigerator told her that any milk she had was spoiled.  She settled on the Lottery Ticket.

Looking at her clothes she realized that she needed to change before going to the gas station.  In her bedroom she stripped out of her urine stained pants and underwear.  She looked around for another pair of panties, but there weren�t any.  Lacy took the best looking pair of pants and put them on.  They were tore a little in the back, it was better than the stain in the other pair.  Looking at the other shirts on the ground, she conceded that the one on her back was good enough.  She slipped on a worn pair of shoes and walked back to the kitchen.

Lacy took the change from the counter and put in her purse.  It was nearly empty, but it made her feel more like a lady to carry it around.  Out the front door she looked back at her apartment, it was just as run down on the outside as it was on the inside.  It was night out, close to eleven as far as she could tell.  The street lamps above the sidewalk flickered occasionally, only further showing how distraught this part of the city was.  Taking in her surroundings she noticed a woman talking to a man on the other side of the street.  Her fishnets and short skirt gave her away, she was working.  Lacy had once been like her, a prostitute, a whore.  That was before years of drug abuse and beatings had transformed her mediocre appearance into the homely woman she was now.

The gas station came into her view, only a little more than a block away.  The gas pumps were empty, but the light was still on inside the store.  There was a man leaning on the outside wall of the station, taking long drags on a short cigarette.  She walked past him, and into the store, to the counter.  Looking at the scrolling date on the lottery machine she thought to herself.  It would be another two days before they drew the numbers, and she wanted money now.  Lacy pointed to a reel of green scratch cards under the glass, and proceeded to reach for her purse.

�I�ll take one of those, please,� she rasped at the clerk, who sighed and ripped the card off.  Lacy handed the woman her change and took the card.  She scratched it off with the nickel.  Behind her there was a chime that signified that someone else had entered the store, but Lacy didn�t pay any attention.  The clerk was staring curiously at the card, as Lacy scratched it off.  She needed three treasure chests that all read the same value.  So far her best bet was another chest that read $20.  Then as she scratched them off, two chests that read $500 appeared.  The last square revealed another $500 chest, but Lacy was so confidant she wouldn�t win she almost threw the card away.  The gasp from the sales clerk caught her attention.  She looked back down at the card and realized that truth.  She smiled, $500 wasn�t enough to change her life on, but it would be enough to buy some more heroine or cocaine.  

Lacy handed the card back to the clerk, who cashed it out.  She gave Lacy the money which she quickly put into her purse.  Lacy turned around, to see a man right behind her, as she stepped to the side of him he gave her a gap-toothed smile.  She walked past and out of the store, but she felt someone behind her.  Turning just a bit she saw that it was the smiling man from the store, who was also the same man who was smoking the cigarette earlier.  Lacy quickened her pace, but she knew it wouldn�t do any good.  She ran across the street, the smiling man in pursuit.  Rounding the corner where two streets crossed she looked behind her and saw that the man wasn�t there.  She ducked into an alleyway near her.  She walked backwards, watching the entrance to the alley, seeing if the man would come in.  He never passed.  

On one step back she stumbled over some unseen obstacle and flung her purse into a stack of garbage then wound up on her back.  She tried to get up, but halfway there she felt a hand slide around her mouth, then another over her right breast.  A third went to her thigh, but before she knew of the forth she felt a sharp pain to the back of her head, and she lost consciousness.

When she woke up later she had to think for a minute about what had happened.  The pain in her midsection and her head reminded her.  She would have cried had this not happened so often when she worked on the streets.  She looked for her handbag, but it wasn�t anywhere near her.  Then she remembered it flying into the pile of trash.  She searched the garbage, and found it.  The men must not have seen it get thrown from her.  Opening the bag she saw that the money was still there.  She walked out of the alley, where it was still dark on the streets.  

The same woman was working on the corner, and as Lacy passed she paid little notice.  She walked back to her apartment and opened the door.  The place was a mess, but more of a mess than it had been when she left.  A man stepped out of her bedroom into the living room and eyed her hard.  His look shifted to the purse at her hip.  He ran to her and grabbed it, not really paying attention to Lacy.  With shaking hands he opened the bag and saw the money inside.

�Mine,� he shouted at her and tried to get past her to the door.  She stopped him, but he brandished a knife.  Before she could do anything he stabbed her in the abdomen.  Then again, just a little higher.  She gasped and fell to the floor.  Her body wasn�t prepared for the shock, and the years of abuse took its toll on her nervous system.  She looked up at the man who was now smiling at the money, still not paying attention to her.  Her vision went blurry and then black and she collapsed face first onto the carpet.  Her blood flowed openly, creating a new stain on the carpet.