SO, I have been known to start stories and not finish them. WHOOPS. I always start and never finish. I really don;t see the need to if no one will read it(There goes my pessimistic side). Also, I;ve included a prologue from Ambers perspective. If you like it in first person let me know! If you dont...STILL let me know. If you like it you know what to do..
If you came for a happy ending or a love story this is where I send you away. This is just a sad story about a sad girl-me. I slave each day because I crave, desire and need one thing. The devil in a hidden form. Sinful yet to obtain is of your highest feeling. Your happiest happy. Calmest calm. All of your emotions in a bottle, shaken up and set free all at once. My resentment, but my angel. This is my fix.
I hated waiting like this. Why couldn't he just huury up? He knows how important this is for me. Hold on. Calm down. Breathe. In. Out. In. Out. But then again... why was he taking so long? I let out a frustrated breath and unsteadily sat down beside the grungy cardboard boxes in the dirty alley where I am supposed to be meeting Haze. My hands were shaking and I was starting to develop a cold sweat. Mary told me once that in order to calm down I should try focusing on something still. I looked around desperately for something...something still. My mind couldn't focus and everything was spinning. I could hear voices and thoughts swirling and colliding inside my skull. Crack. Crack. I didn't realize Haze was walking toward me until his smooth voice brought me back. I could hear him walking. Crack. Crack. There was lots of glass in the dirty alley, mostly alcohol bottles from homeless bums. "Can you stand up?" Haze asked kindly. I nodded dizzily and stood shakily. "I'm so sorry I'm late Amber. Do you need help with your next fix?" he asked. It's was kinda funny actually. For a moment I thought he sincerely cared, but people like him don't care. All they care about is stealing money from junkies and selling sluts. I nodded wearily none the less. I was dope sick, and being dope sick means not even being able to get your next fix. Haze let me by the hand to his sleek black car. Haze was smart to get a simple black car. It looked nice, but it also fit in. Those stupid dealers who drive around in hot shot cars get booked all the time. I see it happen, but I'm smarter than to buy from them. I stick with Haze. I can rely on him to make a sale. Another man led me to the passenger seat in his car, and I sank into the leather seat. Everything and everyone was spinning. I put my hands to my head. "Can you sit back for me? Everythings ready." Haze asked. I felt his hand guide my body into the seat and he sank the needle into me skin. The needle plunged into my jugular. A bitter sweet moment for me. It was the darkest of dark places and then a sudden explosion of colour. I liked my lips and he took the needle away from my skin. "There. How does that feel?" Haze spoke softly. I nodded and handed him a bundle of cash. He smiled and took the money from my heavy hand. "Have you eaten yet today?" Why was he acting so kind to me. I shook my head no, I was too focused on other things to really speak. Haze smiled and abrubtly started his car "Great. You'll have dinner at my house." The lights were so pretty at night. So was the city infact. Alive and breathing, dirty an dangerous. The two men dressed in shadows crawled into the back seat. Funny how they we're wearing such colours. They really did look like shadows. I felt as if I was going no where important, when in reality this was the ride that would ultimately change my life.