Heroin

Reggie

"Listen, ill give you the rest once i get my money Ian... Its been two weeks since you bought that shit from me". I looked at Ian with cold glares as he sighed and took his money out; all 45 dollars. " i dont know why you charge so much for weed, Travis charges 25 for two small packets". Now it was his turn to shoot the glare at me, but i just laughed it off. Everyone knew Travis was my enemy and he lied to his customers more than anyone i knew. "Ian, Travis doesnt play fair when he sells his shit; he uses filler in his weed. Try learning who the vender is before buying from them," immediately after i said that he looked down guilty, but quickly regained his annoyed face. "Can i just have my shit?!" I smirked and tossed him the packet. "Good day to you too Ian;" As my mom said, the customer is always right.

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Dear Thoughts in my Journal:
Before you ask why my name is a boy name again; its not; its short for Kristen. Today i was fighting with this kid, junior in highschool and he was being the typical first weed customer, he asked for the best weed i had. No not the reggie, 45 dollars for each small packet and i gave him two. If i was him i would've accepted the Reggie. Reggie is always the best for hallucinations and for inspiration. It's also the best one to escape your life here, i should know because i always take it after i get in trouble. Well enough of writing on your face, i have chores to do.
Sincerely Kris
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As Kris got up from her bed and tied her hair up; she couldnt help but think why she was even still in her mommas home, she was a senior and top A student. Her friend had offered her to live in his apartment while he left for work. She was still in a one bedroom apartment with her mom, who brought more than her share of visitors to the house. Kris' mom wasnt a hooker, she was a stripper and worked at the Exotic Merch™ club; which meant she liked men and got drunk easilly. Which also meant her savings account usually got stolen; Kris hated it here. Her moms Golden brown skin and straight black hair meant she was still young and her petite figure just added to her lust power. Kris on the other hand, had curly thick hair and deep mocha skin. Her eyes were a light brown and her body frame was thick. Her mom said it was because her dad was black, and her mom was hispanic enough to not show her black attributes. Kris didnt think it mattered, but sadly that wasnt what society thought. In her community it was best to not be mixed; the goverment had developed a caste system in the 17th century to keep people apart. It worked very well, well there was obviously the flaws. Upper class were all white, depending on which country you came from was the deciding role you took in this world. Germans were the militia, british were the political leaders, French were cooks. And so on and so forth, next were the middle class, asians and other whites whose countries where too small to even be in the big white leauges. Asians werent filtered like the whites; they were all labeled as smart doctors and scientists. Some of course were teachers, then there was the hispanic/ latino community, biggest of them all and they were the construction workers, maids, custodians, babysitters. Well basically anything that involved hard work, in the domestic enviroment. Blacks were last, they were the ones who kept the entire thing together. They were often test subjects for a new cure or they worked in the fields for agricultural gain. Then there were the kind like Kris, mixed breed as you call them, placed with other races who were too small to be important. Native americans, Aborigines, Hindus, Iranians. Hebews and some other countries from the russian territory. The ghetto of the ghettoest, the bad guys, who provided all the drugs and black market products to the rest of the community. Even though they werent separated, each race kept to their side. Building barriers to stay away. Kris didnt like it;
she had never seen a white except for the political posters that were posted on school. Her teachers were asian, so she saw those, true Hispanics were also something she had never seen. Mixed were the closest she got to seeing how they were. Her world was also a very sexist one, women couldnt work. Unless they were black or Hispanic, mixed women were given the prostitute jobs or were concubines. Black women worked in the fields with men or made the clothes women and men wear. Hispanics were maids, babysitters and sometimes if they were considered low enough concubines. White women didn't work at all, they simply provided looks and children to the typical white family. They took no part in raising children, much less cook or clean. If the family was rich enough a girl might learn how to read and write; women could paint, but not sell it for profit. Women were also forbidden to take part in politics, as they were considered empty headed to many. At that exact moment when Kris was about to make dinner; her mom came busrting through the door, surprisingly without a man next to her. "Kristina! You won't believe the riot caused earlier in the club. Some maniac came in with his boys and started choosing the women one by one." Her mother flopped on the couch tired, " one of his men was going towards me, but his boss I'm guessing stopped him and instead pointed to Connie. Poor Connie, I wonder what they'll be doing to them he seemed really into the more black looking ones, poor taste if I say, I don't see what's wrong with the way I look."
Kris moodilly shook her head and continued to make dinner, just potatoes and chicken. What was left of their stash; her mom continued to talk about what happened during her job from what she wore, ( black mesh jumpsuit) to who came in ( one man in particular invited her to his home, she declined though, he looked like a rapist). Kris nodded her head and instead went to her own little world in her mind. She didn't want to become a stripper, or a concubine, anything that involved sexual desire. Sex was something she saw with disgust, that's all she was ever meant to do
She hated what her people were forced to do. What made her angrier was that they were okay with it. Some even enjoyed it and saw it as a gift. Kris couldn't understand how civilians were blind; she was a civilian and she wasn't blind. Her mother's screaming brought her back to reality; the food was burning. "Niña! Dont just stand there, turn it off!" Her mother cried to her in fear and worry. Kris exhaled and went to turn the stove off, her mom didn't know how to cook so she was the one who made most of it, if they had takeout or if kris's school gave them canned food. Then she didnt coom. As threw the burnt food away she reached below to the pantry and gave her mom a bag of churros. Reluctantly her mom accepted it. Her mom could see the dull moody look in Kris's face. She was thinking again. Her mom face soon lost the brightness it usually had; "Mija' you gotta stop daydreaming, dreamers don't go anywhere in this world. I know you hate this life and you wish you could change it, but their isn't much a girl like you can do." Kris felt a sharp pain when her mom said that, weren't mom's supposed to support you through everything, but as wrong as she wished her mom was; she was right, "mama I want to change this world why can't I, at school they say kids are the future. That we hold the key to domination and power; I got it mama why can't I just try to. I'm tired of obeying rules and sticking to what I know. " Kris glared at her mom, anger and disapointment was the only thing in mind when she saw her mom. She expected her mom to sigh and talk back like she usually did when they had these talks. To her surprise; her mom just smiled and laughed, "your daddy was like that ya know, he told me one day he'd be the president and change our world for the better." Her smile turned to a frown, " He's gone now Kris and all the people like him are gone too; I don't want my baby going away too. I've given up too many things for you to have you gone. Got that baby girl?" When Kris looked up, she didn't see her mom's young and lively face, she saw a tired and old person who had seen her share of bad luck. Her mom didnt enjoy this life either, but she was living it for her; for Kris. She couldn't just let her down like that; "alright mama I'll try to keep my ideas low." Her tired face brightened up a bit, "buena niña, come on let's go take a puff in the balcony." Kris grinned, the one thing they both loved to do together was smoke a blunt outside on the balcony right on top of their annoying neighbors. "alright momma; got the reggie?"