Bound by blood
I had formulated many good intentions that morning. I truly believed I was going to pay him back that $300. Or was it $250. It was so long ago. It is hard to remember now. He handed me the drugs. The were pre weighed quarter grams and dimes. They were always short on weight which seemed fine because the customers were always short on money. I am not sure how I got set up selling drugs. It seems like a fairly ridiculous proposition to set up a stone cold junkie, let alone a female one, as a person to sell heroin in an open air drug market. The reality was I could always come up with some way to pay my debts. I always was running some type of drag because I came to believe my own bullshit was real. I would overcharge or middleman or use the fuck out of my parents because I had the swagger. You owe me BECAUSE. Because my life was fucked. Because I was in pain. Because I had the best in my mind for the people directly around me. Because, Because, Because by this time, I did not know...