Post by Jenny (Reffy) on Nov 6, 2010 17:32:22 GMT -5
Chapter 2 (roughly) where he is searching for a whore to remove the "urge"
A bottle skittered towards his feet. He heard somebody stumble from behind a dumpster. The clicking of heels headed towards him. His eyes followed the bottle, while he used the peripheral vision to check out the whore that approached him. She wore shorts that barely covered her bottom, ridiculously high heels (that she obviously could not walk in considering her constant hand steadies on the bins and walls as she stumbled), and a tight top. She looked soaked from head to toe. Her greasy blond hair hung like rat-tails around her head and neck and her red lipstick was smudged. Alonzo’s smirk grew just a little. He would not be her first client for the night – if he chose her. He ran his tongue around his mouth, feeling the tender skin from the scald pull on his face as he did so. No, she would not be the one for him tonight.
“Hey there,” she slurred. As she reached forwards to Alonzo he noticed the fresh track-marks on her arms. The bags under her eyes hung like old crusty ivy would on a derelict house. “Five quid for a blow job ...”
Alonzo spat to the ground, letting his confidence pour over the girl. He played the game like he had been the creator all along. “That’s cheap.”
“How’s about it?” she purred, leaning on Alonzo, trying to get him to look at her fully in the face. Her hands traced over his torso looking to gain another quick and easy customer. “Anybody can afford five quid ... but looks like you could afford anything you want, if you catch my drift?” She winkled cheesily.
He replied, “I think I would rather wait to see what the rest of your friends have to offer before I make a decision.”
On cue another girl walked out of the shadows. She looked in a worse state than the first girl and no older than a teenager. Alonzo did raise his gaze to look directly upon her. For just a millisecond his act was dropped, but luckily neither girl was paying enough attention to watch it. A wave of sadness passed over his face like a stray cloud crosses the sun on a warm summer’s day. These girls were just doing what they needed to in order to survive. In a strange way he was not very different from them. They had to do vile things to live, just as he did. They had to open their bodies to all sorts just to get by each month. Although admittedly he did so to stop the infernal urges and the shouts that paced his mind like an insomniac.
The girl looked like a grown-up Barbie doll. She wore lots of pink, with fake nails, and with over garish make-up. She’d even gone as far as to tie up her hair into pig-tails that hung sloppily over her shoulders, drenched from the rain. Her breasts were wrapped up with a small tube top, midriff bared for the World to see, and finally finished off with a mini-skirt that seemed to be two sizes too small. A small muffin top hung over the edges, her pale flesh mapped with stretch marks and dirt from the alleyway. “Like what you see, mister?” she slurred. Her voice was like nails over a chalk board to him. It was hoarse and weak, and followed by a hacking cough.
“Can’t say that I do.” He looked at her directly in the eyes, ignoring the first girl who was still trying to gain his attention. “You are barely even an adult and you are disgusting. Don’t end up like this woman.” He gestured to the whore hanging from his arm, trying to keep herself standing, while her stomach convulsed with the want to throw up.
Barbie paused and looked to him in shock. She was obviously not far gone enough to be able to laugh off the truth, like most others were. Her eyes shot away from him and to some graffiti that covered the wall. Alonzo could see that he had struck a nerve with the girl. Her eyes had started to well up and her chest moved quickly. It was obvious she was thinking carefully about what he had said. Defiantly she looked back, having come to a decision. “It makes the money.”
“I’m sure it does but look at what it has done to you. Leave. Do yourself a favour.” He spoke quietly, as if they were the only pair in World.
The girl turned away, just in time to shoulder bump another prostitute making her way towards Alonzo. He was attracting a crowd.
“Hey there,” she slurred. As she reached forwards to Alonzo he noticed the fresh track-marks on her arms. The bags under her eyes hung like old crusty ivy would on a derelict house. “Five quid for a blow job ...”
Alonzo spat to the ground, letting his confidence pour over the girl. He played the game like he had been the creator all along. “That’s cheap.”
“How’s about it?” she purred, leaning on Alonzo, trying to get him to look at her fully in the face. Her hands traced over his torso looking to gain another quick and easy customer. “Anybody can afford five quid ... but looks like you could afford anything you want, if you catch my drift?” She winkled cheesily.
He replied, “I think I would rather wait to see what the rest of your friends have to offer before I make a decision.”
On cue another girl walked out of the shadows. She looked in a worse state than the first girl and no older than a teenager. Alonzo did raise his gaze to look directly upon her. For just a millisecond his act was dropped, but luckily neither girl was paying enough attention to watch it. A wave of sadness passed over his face like a stray cloud crosses the sun on a warm summer’s day. These girls were just doing what they needed to in order to survive. In a strange way he was not very different from them. They had to do vile things to live, just as he did. They had to open their bodies to all sorts just to get by each month. Although admittedly he did so to stop the infernal urges and the shouts that paced his mind like an insomniac.
The girl looked like a grown-up Barbie doll. She wore lots of pink, with fake nails, and with over garish make-up. She’d even gone as far as to tie up her hair into pig-tails that hung sloppily over her shoulders, drenched from the rain. Her breasts were wrapped up with a small tube top, midriff bared for the World to see, and finally finished off with a mini-skirt that seemed to be two sizes too small. A small muffin top hung over the edges, her pale flesh mapped with stretch marks and dirt from the alleyway. “Like what you see, mister?” she slurred. Her voice was like nails over a chalk board to him. It was hoarse and weak, and followed by a hacking cough.
“Can’t say that I do.” He looked at her directly in the eyes, ignoring the first girl who was still trying to gain his attention. “You are barely even an adult and you are disgusting. Don’t end up like this woman.” He gestured to the whore hanging from his arm, trying to keep herself standing, while her stomach convulsed with the want to throw up.
Barbie paused and looked to him in shock. She was obviously not far gone enough to be able to laugh off the truth, like most others were. Her eyes shot away from him and to some graffiti that covered the wall. Alonzo could see that he had struck a nerve with the girl. Her eyes had started to well up and her chest moved quickly. It was obvious she was thinking carefully about what he had said. Defiantly she looked back, having come to a decision. “It makes the money.”
“I’m sure it does but look at what it has done to you. Leave. Do yourself a favour.” He spoke quietly, as if they were the only pair in World.
The girl turned away, just in time to shoulder bump another prostitute making her way towards Alonzo. He was attracting a crowd.
