sweetsalome: (wee!sal couch)
"It's either you or a foster home, Child Welfare will have to come and pick her up or you can drop her off at the downtown office."  Out of the deck sized pack of cards she peels off one and hands it off to the man protesting the saddling of some dirty faced street urchin that was suddenly his.

"You don't seem to understand, this isn't my child, what kind of untrained, shit for brains government employee leaves a child with a strange man?  I'm not taking her anywhere, you're taking her now."

He is scary.

Standing a million feet tall, bare feet, black denim and messy hands with a cigarette smoldering somewhere up in the atmosphere around his head; she is too scared to look that far up.  It looks like blood.  

He is going to eat her, and Bear!

No, she won't let him eat Bear.

You ARE the father. Fuck you, Maury )
sweetsalome: (wee!sal big eyes)
She was five years old when she took her first lovely. They were stopped in a truck stop right off of route nine and her mama was scrounging around trying to figure out lunch when Sally spotted it. A pair of Mickey and Minnie hair clips. Plastic faces smiling at her like they hadn't a care in the world. Theirs were a constant smile, no matter where she went in the store, when she glanced back they were still smiling, waiting for her.

They had a look in their little plastic eyes that spoke to her of how happy and pretty she could be if only she possessed them.

Oh she wanted those little plastic gems. Those beautiful and alluring faces that hung amongst all the other junk on the rack.

At that age she wasn't fully aware of the fact that a person needed money in order to buy things, she was aware that she needed to give them to mama in order to have mama give them back to her. She was also aware that mama didn't like it when she handed her things when they were in a store. Something about it all being garbage and they were broke.

Sally had no idea what is broken but they were it lot and that usually meant that they had to have chips for dinner and that mom went out with boys later that night.

Frustration and want gnawed on her little brain, such indecision. It's not that she had ever been told right from wrong, not that she had those concepts down yet, but something just felt mildly off about her taking that dangling treasure.

But she wanted. Wanted so very badly.

And that want wont out over anything else that might have been whispering in her ear or chewing on her brain and she slipped the little clips into the pockets of her shorts before creeping out of the store, clinging to Bear for dear life.

It was dark and quiet when she was alone in her mama's trailer and could finally have some alone time in the bathroom to savor and appreciate her treasure. Climbing up on the little counter she used the yellow gold light from the parking lot lamps to see what she was doing in the mirror.

Scooping some slowly blonding hair back she snapped in one of the hair clips. First one side and then the other. Studying herself in the mirror she tilted one way then the other to get both profiles.

The loveys were dark in the dim light of the trailer, she could still see their plastic forever smiles, but they look a bit more sinister for some reason.

They were hers though now, forever and ever, and no one could take them, she was sure of that. No matter what they would be with her and she would keep them safe, like Bear, she kept Bear safe and he kept her safe in return.

Another study of profile and she finally smiled a little.

Un-clipping them she put them back on their flimsy plastic board and went back to her tucked away bed, behind the flimsy accordion style trailer door, happy.
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: (Touch me)
Author's Note:  ADULT CONTENT.  There, that's your warning, abandon hope all ye who enter here.


             Father's day at the Collin's house hold was never, ever normal.  At least not from an outsiders perspective, or anyone that had any shred of decency or morals.  It usually involved drinking and various types of women filtering in and out of the large master bedroom in the Collin's New York townhouse.  It would be one thing if hookers were the only thing that were given as gifts for father's day.  It was another one when the blond teen was wrapped up and offered over with a smile.

sweetsalome: (Sunglasses)
Author's Note:  This takes place after THIS.  The bobby I am abusing is, [profile] isalsogreat, and I have permission so there! 

    She heard the bike before she actually saw the bike, so she was already out the door when the engine finally stopped.  A bag over her shoulder, she ran down the side walk, flip flops slapping on the hot cement.  He was just pulling off his helmet when she launched herself at him, it was only from years of training that he managed to catch her and not drop the helmet.  

    "Hiya, Kid.  Happy to see me?"  He grinned down at her, giving the blond a hug before setting her down on her feet.

    "You better believe it, Iceman!  Let's blow this pop stand!"  

Laughing, he shook his head and helped her with the helmet that she still grumbled about.  He informed her very simply that she could walk if she didn't want to wear it.  She argued that it would mess up her hair and he wouldn't crash anyway.  In the end she did wear the helmet but kept making faces at him the whole time he was adjusting the chin strap.

    "You'll thank me when you aren't smeared all over the pavement."  Bobby spoke but Salome just rolled her eyes.
sweetsalome: (See no evil)
Author's Note:  Behind the cut deals with some disturbing behaviors.  I do not condone such behaviors, this is fiction and nothing else.  Any problems with the content shall be directed to the big Gorilla in back, who's really, really hungry.  Ya dig?

            Salome‚Äôs father, Liam Collins, was a tall bear of a man.  With dark hair and dark eyes and a neatly trimmed, but equally black goatee, he wore the continence of a man who had seen hell and had no problem showing it to others who crossed him.  A son of a whore, he grew up fighting everyone and everything he saw as a threat, which earned him a few nasty scars and a reputation that followed him to America.  He started working in shipyards as soon as he could pass himself off as of legal age.  As a member of the IRA, he used his position at the docks to help smuggle in weapons and explosives.  After a few successful runs, he realized it was more profitable to work for both sides, a philosophy he would follow the rest of his life.

sweetsalome: (Dark)
                Her madness first showed itself when she was four years old.  The old man remembered this day since it was after the first time they had visited her mother in the home.  The display did not shock him, nor did it upset him.  He simply assumed that it was the insanity that she had inherited from him, that he had learned through the beatings in his own childhood.

He refused to see anything wrong with her behavior.   Like most aspects of their relationship, he simply couldn't see that something might be wrong or inappropriate.

He saw her anger and rage as simply a genetic trait, something passed down through the generations, and so allowed her to act out.  


sweetsalome: (Default)

February 2013

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