Siblings with Benefits Ch. 38

Looking straight into the mirror, I smiled sadly at what was left of my single best feature. My eyes, once an amazing shade of ice blue, were red-rimmed, dull, and lifeless. The skin underneath my eyes was sagging and a nasty shade of deep purple. The left eye was also surrounded by the yellowish tint of a faded bruise. Last week, I had blown a guy in an alley. When I asked for the money, he punched me. As he walked away, he called out over his shoulder, "Keep the change."

Reaching up, I grabbed a piece of my hair and rubbed it between my fingers. It felt as nasty as it looked. The shower had broken days ago. Tony and Julie showered at the shelter, but I hadn't gone there in awhile. After all, I could no longer eat without throwing up, so there was no point in going there for a meal. As for showering, well, I didn't care enough anymore. Even the other day when I had stopped to sniff, wondering what that nasty smell was and realizing it was me wasn't enough to get me to care. Speaking of smell, I looked down at the dirty pink t-shirt and jeans I was wearing and tried to remember if I had changed my clothes yesterday. Then I shrugged. It didn't matter, everything I had was dirty, I had used every bit of money I could scrounge for the horse, even the change I'd saved for laundry.

On that note I did manage a few tears as looking into the mirror I put my hand on my bare neck. My plan the last few days was to walk the streets, all night if I had to, every night, until I could get the four hundred dollars I needed to get enough uncut heroin to make sure it would be my last dose. The problem was that at this point, I was so used up that even the sleaze balls that prowled the streets of Hell's Kitchen didn't want me. When I had first started hooking, I could easily get a hundred and fifty for a fuck and half that for a blow job. As time went on, however, I'd had to settle for less and less.

I was so hard up and bad off right now that I had been taking as little as twenty dollars for whatever they wanted from me. For the last couple of weeks, that had simply been blow jobs. Plainly put, I was too nasty looking to fuck. When I would trick, I would normally wear a short skirt to show off my long legs; however, those once well-shaped legs were nothing more than sticks covered in scabs, and I now wore jeans to cover them. Even my formerly perky tits were nothing more than sagging flesh. The last guy I undressed for shook his head disgustedly and threw a twenty at me and told me to leave.

Things became worse a few days ago when the cold sores appeared and no amount of lipstick could completely cover them up. The last few nights, I had started at six and stayed out until three in the morning and had only come up with half the money. Most of that came from guys who were so fucked up they either didn't notice my appearance or didn't care. I was getting desperate, as it was almost impossible to not take what little money I was making and grab a fix. Since I had spent the last few nights straight, I was becoming aware of how sick I was and how bad I looked. Still, for the first time in months, I reached down within myself and found the little strength that I had left and held back, telling myself I would have no worries soon.

Two nights ago, I reached an all-time low, even for these days. I ran into four guys in their early twenties hanging around the edge of an alley, drinking. After waving me over to see what I looked like, one of them told me to get away from them. As I started to walk away, another called out that he would give me fifty dollars if they could all jerk off on my face. A couple of them started laughing, and I was going to keep walking. Then, unable to handle the thought of another night of being no closer to the end, I quickly turned back around, walked past them into the alley, got on my knees, lifted my face up and let them do what they wanted. I closed my eyes and tried to find my forest as they called me a whore and a skank, amongst other things, while cumming on me.

Yesterday I decided that I couldn't wait any longer. I had been unable to eat and could barely stay upright long enough to stay out on a corner. Going down to the pawn shop, I hocked the locket Mom had given me when we went away together years ago.

I never wore it on the street for fear it would be taken from me, but I wore it every night. Most nights, I would fall asleep holding it and hoping that my mother could forgive me for what I had done to her. I cried the entire walk to the shop and was still in tears when the guy offered me forty dollars for it. I was so upset, I threw up outside the door of the shop on the way out. Then again, I threw up all the time, so maybe it wasn't from that, but at least I now had enough money to do what I needed.

I went to the dealer, who was more than happy to sell a gram of his best stuff for good money, as opposed to the cheap cut shit the people in the neighborhood usually bought. I had planned on doing it last night until I got back to the apartment and walked in on Tony screaming at his sister. The rent was due the next day, and Julie had found out where Tony kept the money and had spent it on coke and pot. Julie was crying and saying she was sorry, but Tony was beside himself. We were already two months behind, but the guy who ran the building knew Tony and had gone to the landlord, who said that if we could come up with one month's rent he would work with us. If we didn't, however, we would be thrown out.

My first reaction was to just go into my room and lock the door. I was going to get ready to end my misery once and for all. As I sat there, however, I could still hear Tony yelling and Julie crying. That was when the memory of what I had done to my brother years ago came back to me. I had stolen my brother's rent money and left town. Mark had to hustle pool to get the money, and that was when he ran into Max and almost ruined his life. As I thought about that, I thought of Tony, who was a good guy trying to help people who were suffering as he had suffered. Not only that, but Tony, like my own brother, was desperately trying to take care of his sick sister, who, constantly hurt him by using. Just like I had done to Mark.

If not for Tony, Julie and I would be sleeping at the shelter when they had room and on the street when they didn't. Tony was a former boxer and a big guy with a nasty street reputation. He'd kicked the shit out of a couple of dealers who sold to us, and broke the arm of the pimp that we were working for when he found us. Just like Mark had once done. Tony let us live with him, brought us home food from the shelter, and did everything he could for us.

In that moment I had the first unselfish thought I'd had in months--I had to try to help him. Yes, I nodded to myself, I would help Tony. As I thought more about it, I found myself smiling. This was a test. Before I left a life during which I did nothing but hurt the people who cared about me, I had been given a chance to make amends. One good deed to try to make up for the pain I had caused, this would ensure that my forest would be waiting for me.

The problem was that it had taken me over a week of humiliation and the selling of my most cherished possession to get that much money. What could I do by tomorrow? I put my head down and tried to think. None of the losers we knew would have that kind of money, the pawn shop certainly wouldn't lend to a junkie, and Tony had tried a loan shark once already and had almost gotten his leg broken for missing a payment. The only people I knew that would have it were the people I had run from. On that note, I looked up. I sure as hell wouldn't call my parents, nor would I try to contact my brother, but maybe...

Putting the heroin under the mattress, I went back out into the small living room where Julie was lying on the couch. Tony was sitting in the old, torn recliner with his head in his hands. I asked him if he had a couple of dollars in change or if he knew of someone who would let me make a long distance call.

"Why?" he asked.

"I might be able to get the money for the rent wired to me."

"I thought you didn't have anyone."

I sighed. "You want my help or not?"

Tony looked over at Julie, who was curled into a ball, crying like a little kid. "Okay."

We walked down to the shelter, and Tony got permission to call long distance, telling the woman who ran it that he was trying to help me get in touch with family. She smiled delightedly, wished me luck, and let us use her office.

I asked Tony to wait outside. I didn't want him to know that I had anyone left who could help me. I also didn't want him to hear me begging.

I took a deep breath and called Tommy's office. It was only four and I figured he would be there. If not, I was screwed, because I didn't remember his cell number and his home was unlisted. The receptionist answered, and when she asked who was calling, I hesitated before finally saying my name. If he took the call, I might have a chance. She put me on hold. I sat on the edge of the desk, holding my twisting stomach.

I was ready to give up after a couple of minutes, figuring Tommy was rightfully saying,"Fuck her!" when I heard a click, then, "Megan?"

"H...Hi Tommy," I whispered.

"You there?"

"Yeah, I'm here T...Tommy. H...how are you?" I forced my weak voice to speak as loudly as I could.

"Megan, are you okay?" he asked. "Christ, you sound terrible."

"I...I'm not really okay, but, umm, that's okay, it's for the best."

"Where are you? New York? You want me to come get you?"

I put my head down and felt my dry eyes burning again. After what I had done to him, Tommy was offering to come get me. I felt my heart sink as I realized that I had not succeeded in making him hate me.

"Megan?"

I pulled myself together by telling myself it was supposed to be this way; this was the only chance I would have of redeeming myself in some small way.

"I'm here. Yes, I'm in New York, but, ummm, Tommy, I need help."

"Tell me where you are," he replied. "I could come up or..."

"Tommy, I need four hundred dollars wired to me," I blurted out.

"What?" Tommy exclaimed. "You're calling me for money? Are you fucking kidding me?"

"Tommy, please, listen to me!" I cursed at myself for saying it so quickly. My mind was starting to go the way of my body.

"And I thought you were a piece of work before!" he continued. "After what you did, you have the nerve to ask me for money so you can get wasted?"

"Oh, Tommy, please listen!" I began. "It's not for drugs and it's not for me! It's for a friend that I'm trying to help!" I paused. "I'll give you his name. You can send the money to him, not me!"

"Oh, I can send direct to your dealer?" he laughed harshly. "Come on. Remember who you're talking to! Been there, done that! I'm not sending you a fucking dime, take care of yourself, Megan, I'm hanging..."

"No!" I exclaimed. "No, please don't! Oh, Tommy please, the money's for..."

"You need money, call your brother, he's doing damn well for himself."

"My brother told me I was dead to him," I said softly, telling yet another lie. There was no way I would get Mark involved. "You're the only one who can help me!"

There was silence and I was afraid he had hung up, but a moment later, he spoke softly.

"Megan, I know you're sick. That does not mean I am not angry at you, but I will help you to try to get better. Under no circumstances, however, will I feed your habit. Understood? You want a bus ticket to get back home, say the word. Want me to drive up and get you, I will. Beyond that, I... can't, I just can't."

"Tommy please!" I sobbed into the phone, losing control. "I know you have every right to not believe anything I say, but please listen!"Without giving him a chance to continue, I went on."I'm trying to help someone who helped me! We... we don't have any money and the rent is due, and we're going to get thrown out!"

I paused and started sobbing.

"Megan, listen," Tommy began. "I just don't"

"And I don't care about me anymore." I began speaking through the sobs. "I don't, and I don't deserve any help, but Tony does! He helped me. Tommy. He...he's helped me the way you tried and my family tried and now he's in trouble and I...I want to help him! Please help me help him, Tommy!"

"I don't know," Tommy started again. "This wouldn't be the first time you cried to..."

"Oh pleeeeeeese!" I wailed into the phone, "Tommy, I just want to do one good thing before I go!"

"Before you go?" he asked softly.

"It's too late for me Tommy, but not for Tony and his sister! All I want to do is help them! I..." I stopped and went into a coughing jag.

"Megan?"

I stopped coughing and, holding the phone away from me, leaned over the wastepaper basket and vomited. Gasping, I brought the phone back to my ear.

"T...Tommy," I choked out.

"My God, Megan," Tommy said on the other end. "Are you..."

"Please let me be remembered for something besides hurting people, please!"

I started coughing again, but managed not to retch this time. I heard Tommy sigh on the other end. "Are you somewhere I can call you back?" he asked.

Nice try, I thought. "No b...but I can call you back if you give me a time."

"All right, Megan. I need to think about this. Call me back in an hour, okay?"

"Will you be..."

"I'll be here, Megan, I promise. Call me back in an hour, I just need to run this through my head."

"O...okay."I hung up the phone and Tony and I went out into the shelter.

Tony tried to get me to eat some soup, but I couldn't manage more than a few bites before I had to run to the bathroom. When I came back, Tony asked who I called.

"My ex. I royally screwed him over." When Tony looked at me questioningly, I told him exactly what I had done.

Tony shook his head, "But I've heard of much worse."

The hour was one of the longest I could remember. When the time came, Tony got me back into the office, and this time, Tommy came on immediately.

"Okay Megan, I'm going to send you the money."

"Thank you, Tommy!" I cried into the phone. "Oh thank you! You're so much better than I deserve!"

"Yeah, well, I just hope you're telling the truth, Megan, because I'd hate to think this is going up your nose."

"I...promise! The money's going to help a good guy, Tommy, another person I don't deserve."

"Okay, give me an address."

"What?" I asked, suddenly nervous.

"A place I can wire the money, Megan. New York's a big city."

"You...you're not coming up, are you?"

"No, I'm not, you don't want anyone's help, so I wouldn't waste my time," Tommy sighed. "Bad enough I'm probably wasting my money, but at least I can say I did something."

I sighed with relief, then told him the name of the drugstore a few blocks from the apartment that accepted Western Union.

"Okay, I'm going to do it, but I..." Tommy hesitated. "Look, Megan, I'm with someone, and it's serious, and I'm going to take the money out of the bank, then send it. Everything's joint and I don't want her thinking I'm wiring money to an ex."

"Ummm okay."I fought back the irrational thought that if Tommy was that serious with someone already, then he had gotten over me pretty quick. Instead, I told myself that that was exactly what I had wanted, and I hoped whoever she was, she was good to him.

"Well, that means you won't get it until tomorrow afternoon."

"Can you do it by five?" I asked. "Please? That's when the guy comes for the rent."

"I'll have it there by three-thirty, okay?"

"Thank you, Tommy!" I told him, then began choking up. "T...thank you for believing me and for everything you tried to do for me."

"Okay, Megan, just don't make me feel bad about this, help your friend."

Tommy hung up without waiting for a reply, but that was okay. I shouldn't have kept talking, anyway. I walked out of the office feeling better than I had in weeks. I told Tony that I got the money. The look of relief on Tony's face was worth the humiliation of calling Tommy, and it made me feel as if I wouldn't leave this world as a total bitch.

After we walked back to the apartment, I went into my room and, sitting at the table, brought out a pad and pen I had gotten from the 'free' box at the shelter. I spent the next half-hour writing goodbye letters to Mom and Mark. Both letters were brief, as there was not much I could say besides I was sorry, but I had to keep stopping to wipe at my tear-filled eyes. To Mom, I added how grateful I was for the good years she had given me, how she had taken me in and loved me as her own. I also told her to tell Dad that I was sorry I had disappointed him so.

To Mark, I wrote of how I truly felt about him, telling him how I had been in love with him way back when we were still living with the folks. I told him how, through the years, I had yearned to be with him, but knew we could never be, and how I would only hurt him. I apologized for how badly I had hurt him at the end and for hurting him by leaving him like this. I ended it by asking him to try to remember me as young and beautiful, and not as the disgraceful shell I had become.

Reaching into the small shoebox that contained the few personal effects I had, I removed a picture of my mother and me that had been in my purse. In it, we were sitting on the porch swing, our arms around each other. I folded it up in the paper and did the same with a picture of Mark and me taken at the party Alex had thrown for him after he graduated from Suffolk. I sealed and addressed the letters, then, after writing of the day's events, put them in the back of the journal.

I wrote another note, this one to Tony. I thanked him for everything and asked him to mail the letter to Mom and the journal with the letter to my brother. I explained who they were to me, and apologized for lying to him, but it had to be this way, to spare them additional pain. I felt an odd sense of satisfaction; my 'affairs,' if that was what they could be called, were in order, and all that remained was to collect the money, and I would be free to enter my forest.

I jumped at another knock at the door and was surprised to find myself facedown on the table. I had either fallen asleep and dreamed the events of the last couple of days, or had been in some type of stupor. As I sat up, and I called out to Tony to give me a minute, it occurred to me that it was probably the former. Over the last few days, I had been sleeping more as my body tried to conserve what little strength it had left. Matter of fact, it dawned on me that if Tony said we had to go, then it must be three-thirty. I had gone to bed at midnight last night and not woke up in between. On the heels of that was the disturbing fact that I somehow did not have to go to the bathroom. I frowned, and, putting my trembling hand between my legs, I realized that at some point I had.

Calling to Tony to give me another minute, I put my head down and found myself thankful to whatever-powers-that-be that there would be no more of this after tonight. Getting up, I pulled off the soiled jeans and panties and looked around the floor at the piles of filthy clothes. I didn't bother trying to find underwear. After finding a pair of jeans that looked less dirty then the rest, I slipped them on.

As I pulled them up, I caught sight of myself in the mirror. My thighs were no thicker than my calves, and my ass, what was left it, had some kind of rash covering it. Quickly looking away, I tugged the jeans up and, after zipping them, removed the belt from the other jeans. I had made several holes to make it tighter, and it still barely kept them up around my wasted frame.

I opened the door, almost walking into Tony, who looked as if he were ready to knock the door down to check on me. As Tony stepped back, I looked up at him and gave him a weak attempt at a smile.