sweetsalome: (Completely lost)
And I want to know my fate
If I keep up this way
And it's hard to want to stay awake.

       It was stupid walking home after partying all night.  It was stupid to wave off any escort that slurred drunkenly in her ear that they would make sure she got home safe. 

        It was stupid to be too drunk and too stoned to realize that bad people were following her after she passed the mouth of an alley.  It was stupid not to take that cab.

        The whole night was just stupid.  God protects babies, and sometimes fools.  Unfortunately Salome had pressed her luck in that department.

        They only took her purse, they only took her ipod and cell phone.  Then her shoes, then her coat.   Because that's all they wanted, the material things.  Of course that didn't stop them from having a little fun.

        That's when the night stopped being stupid and turned down right painful.  It would have been shorter, if she would have screamed, but years of training had taught her to remain silent while receiving beatings.  Dad didn't like screams and so she bit the inside of her cheek until she could taste blood. 

        It was a group of drunk club goers that startled the boys that were using the blond as a punching bag.  The boys ran off and Salome laid very still, collecting herself until she heard the voice of some girl above her.

        "Oh my gawd!  There is like, someone here!  Carlos, call like the cops.  Sweetie are you like, okay?"  Like. Like. Like. Like.  Die bitch.

        The word 'cops' got her going.  That was not good, cops would mean parents, and parents would mean dad and that scared her more then a bunch of gang bangers fucking her up.  Grabbing the brick wall she hauled herself to her feet and lunged forward, pushing away from the group that had gathered around her.  Moving forward was good, going home was better.  Home she could wash up and take care of herself. 

        Where was home?

        Sagging against a wall she shuddered and wrapped an arm around her stomach before she heaved and threw up her liquid dinner and broke down crying.  She could cry here, there wasn't anyone to scream at her for it.  Moments of weakness were allowed in private. 

sweetsalome: (A picture)
    My friend Mark enjoys taking pictures and is studying photography this semester.  He decided to take a series of me for his final project.  I managed to snag one, the best one in my opinion though he is amazing with a camera, I have camera envy.  Can I just mention right now that I already have a fucking father and I don't need another god damned one? 

Yeah, so you think I drink too much or I'm too skinny?  Fuck off.  Anyway, pic below the cut.

More here )
sweetsalome: (laid out punk)
       I had a nightmare about surgery last night.  People would be taken off the streets and locked up so that regular, bored people could preform surgery along with doctors.  Sometimes.  It was horrible, they didn't do it right and there were tubes sticking out of people and blood everywhere.

I hate dreams, I went without them for so long, probably because I passed out more then I actually slept.  Now I can't sleep normally.

The worst part is that I could feel it.  I could being strapped down and cut open and they wouldn't stop, no matter how much I screamed.
sweetsalome: (Just a taste)
        There is something highly ironic about the bunch of under aged girls getting dressing up and going out for 80's night. Of course the whole thing is lost on the girls as they do shots of raspberry Smirnoff in their dorm room while getting ready to go out. Music turned up loud, the girls dance up against each other, shaking their hips and tossing their hair in time to the music. Only pausing once and awhile when one of the more sober ones remind the others that someone was going to catch them if they were too loud. Which only set the girls to giggling, and a round of over exaggerated 'Shhhhhhhhh's' which were lost under the music anyway.
Cut for sex, drugs, and pretentious art kids )


sweetsalome: (Default)

February 2013

     1 2
171819202122 23


RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Sep. 22nd, 2017 06:21 am
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios