By seventeen I was well on my way to an early grave. My mindset was very much the same as it had always been, but when stealing failed to get me the money i needed to get the drugs I so desperately craved, i had to turn to more drastic measures.
Prostitution was my only option at this point. No dealer within a hundred mile radius would let me sell and i knew it was because they suppiled me. They were well aware of the habits i had developed in the year between my sixteenth and seventeenth birthday.
I had gone from Shrums to Ecstasy in a matter of months and my need for more was only getting more pressing.
The hardest part was telling my mind that i was allowing these men to touch me. I wasnt that scared little girl pleading for them to stop any longer. My habit was the only hand holding me down and I had…show more content… It was an endless cycle of destruction and self sabotage, and I had no intention of breaking it. At least while I lay on my back my mind couldn't torture me with the thoughts of my childhood it often plagued me with. The heavy pounding of the head board above me kept my mind planted to the bed I was currently being ridden on and I was both thankful for the short reprieve and devastated because I knew my life would always be this way. Nothing would ever change, no one would ever care, and as long as a single male was willing to pay for my youth I would be high. It's funny how much you can realize when you're face down on a dingy mattress being sloppily fucked by a nameless drunk. It's funny how in those brief moments of careless, soul numbing reality you can almost feel yourself die a little more than you did the day before. Even the ecstasy failed to make me forget the pain I repeatedly caused myself. The drugs could make me feel invincible ,but when I came down I was still just as broken as