It's Cold Outside

We ran as fast as our feet would take us, rain poured down on us as we hid between the night shadows trying to conceal our laughter and not get caught. The police sirens got louder and we could see the blue and red flashing lights out of the corner of our eyes. To high to care and far to young to understand. You took my hand and pulled me down a dark thin ally way, we jumped inside a big blue recycle bin holding our hands over our mouths to keep quiet and lighting the small space with my blue bic lighter.

Your blood shot green eyes flickered under the dim flame. The sounds of police cars faded as did our laughter but we stayed inside staring in each others eyes before my finger slipped from the lighter leaving us in darkness. I knew you were smiling when you whispered my name under your breathe waiting for my lips on yours. I don't know how I knew where your head was but my hands tangled in your long knotted blonde hair and I crashed my watermelon lips into your strawberry ones.

Something about being on the run from your parents and my probation officer high off our asses hiding in a recycle bin at 1:00am in the pouring rain was extremely sexy to my drug clouded mind, and it's fair to say to were thinking the same thing as you pushed me on my back and straddled my waist trailing your kisses down my jaw and neck.

"Sex in a garbage bin... really babe?" I asked you under my shallow breathe, though even if you said no I would still fuck you and you knew that because my grip on your waist tightened as if to dare you to back out now. You moaned like a whore in responds.

The way you taste, the way you moan, the way you pull on my short black hair was something I will never forget. It never mattered where we were, what situation or what drugs we were on, I wanted you and I needed you. Drugs and you went hand in hand, I couldn't have one without the other...

It never took me long to send you over the edge of orgasm cliff, I had studied every part of your body and knew all the right places to touch, rub or lick to make you wither under me like a slave. I took advantage of that all too often but it's not like you minded, and you did the same to me.

We finished on record what was probably one of the quickest fucks we had. I dug in the back pocket of my skinny jeans for the little white bag, when I found it I directed you to hold the lighter so I could see what I was doing. Across the back of my hand I lined up two messy rows of the white powder and quickly snorted them both. I took your other hand and set up another two lines for you. You took them with just as ease as I did and I remember thinking 'I created this' and kissing you hard on the lips.

I don't know what is worse. The fact that I was proud of what I made you, or the fact I still don't feel guilty.

We jumped out from the metal dumpster and stumbled out of the ally, you latched on to my arm for support as I dragged as back to where we came from. We giggled and cursed as we walked through the rainy night. Luckily the rain had died down somewhere between getting in the dumpster and fucking.

You always wondered what my life was like, you were curious to where I went when I wasn't in school or with your older brother smoking pot in his car. While now you know, and you live it too. People frown upon me now because I ruined the perfect girl, but I'm a selfish person and I saw you and wanted every bit of you.

I know you wanted this too, but if there was any hope of me having a heart I would have told you no, and that you couldn't live this life. But I knew you were stubborn and it was better you get dragged to hell with someone who wont leave you to the pigs.

You were still young too, and that made it worse. Fifteen years old, and in a sense you will never become anything but a fifteen year old, you're mind is as numb as mine is and there is no hope for being saved. This life will fallow you until the day you die baby, there's no going back.

But every time I looked in your eyes I saw the little bit of hope, and that little bit of you. It slowly died with each line I gave you. And I guess you can say I wanted to kill it, because I thought: 'If I can't have hope then she can't either' and with that I showed no remorse as I killed off the real you.

You were to young and naive to understand that though, and you still are. You looked up to me and what you saw was me giving you compassion and love by taking you under my wing and showing you this life. But in reality I was jealous and I wanted to destroy you're perfect life. Somewhere along the line I fell in love with you though. But it was far to late to bring you back to the life you knew so I had to take you with me.

The depressing fact is, even now... After all this time, I wouldn't change a damn thing we did. I don't regret the things I did or the words I said, not even the drugs I did. I guess that makes me the bad guy right? And you were the innocent victim of a diabolical plan?

Well I guess I'm pretty okay with that. I mean it is true and I wont try to justify my actions. I wasn't completely bad though. I took the rap for you whenever you fucked up. I never left you out on your own and I made sure you were kept safe when I wasn't by your side. Even when I had finished my plan, I stayed with you because I loved you.

I'll never stop loving you, even though there's not much left to love. I don't expect the same from you, I honestly doubt you ever loved me like you said. I mean in reality I was dead before you met me, and that leaves a slim possibility that you could love someone so lifeless and cold.

I wonder where you are now, as I'm being dragged down a long stone hallway by two police officers in uncomfortable hand cuffs. It doesn't matter though because I'll be out as soon as a sign more papers anyways and I'll find you at one of the crack houses or down at the ally on Second Street.

That's how it works when one of us goes down. But I only ever let them get you once. Call me the bad guy if you will but you live a fairy tail compared to me baby.

I sign my name at the bottom of a sheet of paper messily with the black pen. I love being under age because they won't lock me up for such a little petty crime. The officer asks my address but I have non to tell him so I mumble that I'll walk home. This officer knows me, and wont question it though.

What seems like hours later I'm released back to find you, I know you will be happy to see me because you called my cell phone twelve times while I was being searched last night but you know not to text me in case they tap my phone.

I begin my long walk along the familiar path to where ever you may be. It's early in the morning so I recon it's the crack house. They let you sleep there if you buy from them and we always do. I help out with the dealing too so I'm aloud to stay as long as I want.

It's a pitiful life that we live babe, but I wouldn't change it for anything. I love you to much to care.