3rd Draft - Shadows

I hardly remember that night, it was cold and that late night shift lasted longer than usual. I remember being in the bathroom of an old auto mechanic shop on Broad Street looking into the half cracked mirror while I dabbed the last ounce of red shimmer on my used lips, took my panties off and put on my matching red strap up heels. I had one needle left and I shot up. I put my coat on and headed to the corner of 231st and Arc Avenue. I waited, it was a slow night, my lipstick was drying out and the constant flickering of lights in the cross only made it that much colder. An hour later, a black van slowly crept up by the curb and window slowly came down.

“Mystic Angel”, he said

“Yeah that’s me” I said

“Come inside” he said

I went inside and the car seat was new leather, he was a new client I thought. He drove off and stopped two blocks down, stuck his hand inside his jacket and pulled out a Las Vegas Police Department badge then stuck the chains on my hands. Although my heart was in bondage, I kicked, I screamed, I begged for him to let go. His head was faced forward and he remained silent.

The precinct was fifteen minutes away and I knew this was my last chance. It was never my fault, a shadow have been casted ever since my childhood days. The cold wind would always remind me how my mother made some of her own money. She would buy the nicest underwear and bras for me to make me presentable for my job. I was around thirteen when I started. At first she would go with me, to see how well I fit in, and then she would occasionally join me for overtime pay. During week days, I would only work from 10pm-1am and on weekends; I would work till 2a.m. I would get a vacation on some holidays depending on business that month.

I struggled to open the door, but the officer came to escort me anyway. He walked behind me and pushed me forward considering my feet never wanted to leave the ground. I walked into the station as if I was crippled; I mumbled words and everyone looked at me with a raised eyebrow. I couldn’t imagine my life behind bars. With a quick move, I ran. I glided through the double doors. As I headed for the fire escape, I hit my head against the glass case and landed in front of a blurry mirror. I saw my reflection, she was much older and she just stood there. She didn’t have the same clothes I had but the face looked exactly like me. I struggled to get a better look. I tried wiping the mirror with the sleeve of my jacket but it got worse and my reflection began to fade. It was then, I knew.

They finally caught up to me and grabbed me up off the floor with the handcuffs still tightly holding me together. I turned my head slowly and the image was completely gone. A sigh of relief escaped through my lips and walk to my cell with my head down.