Death Grips On Guns And Goodbye Kisses

A week later and I still find myself tossing and turning in Ronnie's bed. My eyes struggled to stay closed as I couldn't force my mind to shut off. It never stops running. I fall asleep and wake up thinking about the same two things.

Carefully, I slid out of bed and into some clothes. Barely though, if that's what you consider a skirt and half see-through top. I checked myself in the mirror. Adjusting my top, pushing up my boobs, pulling up my skirt, slapping too much make-up on, then grabbing my bag, I left the room.

As I opened the front door, I reached into my bra. The red baggy was still there: my savior.

With at least 3g's I could last till morning. On Ronnie's front porch, I started to smoke the weed. Slowly I turned into the person I had to be. I don't know how someone could hold this job sober...

I knew that with Ronnie, Jace slept well in a new crib in his own bedroom. I never slept any more than I used to even in a bed with a roof over my head. It just didn't change my life style.

I couldn't trust these people, the ones who walked the streets during day or night. My thoughts never stop revolving about Jacobi and his well-being, even if that means destroying mine in attempt to never let them take him.

Drugs. They keep me going. And Frank. As much as I hate to admit it, yes, those are the two things I think about. When will I see Frank and when can I get my hands on more drugs?

I met the man in the warehouse where he lived. I had no money, but I told him I would pick up the shit tonight. Not doing so would cause a set back for both of us. I needed this to keep up with the kid and life itself.

He recognized me and greeted me with a slightly unjust smile. He held his hand out like usual. I grabbed it and placed it on my left breast. "You wanna make a deal?" He smirked. My stomach turned. And the night was just beginning...