I am in deep thought reflecting on the past which seems several lifetimes ago. I wasn’t always perfect and lord knows I wasn’t always good but yet I am here.
I have the life I always wanted from my teenage years a life I never thought I could obtain. School drop-out and involved in a dark world that seemed so glamorous a life of money, drugs and excess where nothing was off limits if you were down and pretty.
Yet I find myself in a strange awe how did I live this way? why did I survive when many others fell at the wayside lost to a life of drug addiction, prison or death?
I do not even remember the moment it changed and I shed my old life and became the person I am today, it just happened and I am living the life I want relatively unscathed. Why now am I reflecting on this? why not leave it in the past? as the an old saying goes the past has away of sneaking back on you and today is one of those days.
Scrolling through Facebook I see a RIP post. This post is relating to a very old friend of mine who at one point was my closet ally until the smack destroyed her.
I last saw her many years ago in a known red light area standing on a corner looking gaunt and frail. Her bones clinging to her once illustrious golden skin which now had a sickly grey pallor. Her eyes were heavy with sadness, full of regret and a window to her damaged soul.
How did she end up here? how did nights of clubbing drinking the best champagne jumping into Bentley’s to the next hot spot result in this? I could not understand and I probably never will. I heard the rumours of the abuse she has suffered from an early age and her choice in men was always questionable. It has been said a boyfriend introduced her to smack and years later this was the lasting result. She was still going long after he had departed this earth from his own smack demons.
I approach her and disturbed her nodding out, her eyes like pinballs lolling in her sockets. She takes a moment to focus on me as I fully take in the woman stood in front of me, it is freezing outside and she is dressed in a skimpy burgundy dress which barely covered her modesty along with some stilettos that were once white. Her arms hang limply by her sides with the evidence of how far she had fallen etched in trackmarks and abscesses.
I see a faint flicker, like she knows my face but can’t quite place me. I say her name softly and then I say mine a familiar smile spreads across her face a smile full of mischief a smile I fondly remember.
We talk about nothing both avoiding the elephant in the room. I can see she wants to go away from me, away from a life she once had to the life she now lives. She makes her excuses and I let her. As she walks away she suddenly stops her head snaps round “don’t suppose you could spare me 20 quid” I reach in my bag and give her the money, that same smile appears she has suddenly woken up and is pretty much skipping down the road shouting “bye babe” over her shoulder as she vanishes around the corner. I walk slowly back to my friends car a new Mercedes top of the line in vibrant white “who’s that tramp?” I stare blankly and reply “no one”.
But she wasn’t no one she once was my good friend, a sister, a lover, a daughter and so much more yet all that was left was the shell of the person before. She wasn’t living but existing and now all these years later she is dead overdosed and found in a dank side road bunched up inside a doorway, tourniquet and needle still in place. I read all the comments there were messages of condolences along side rumours of her HIV status and her life as a prostitute. People want to know her tragic tale as the vultures comment frantically hoping to get more tid bits to feed on. I read half of the comments then shut my browser…no more I cannot read anymore.
I look around my plush office and stare vacantly out of my window the day is grey and the streetlights are already turned on.
The one thing I keep thinking is…how did this happen? How?
**My blog is intentionally anonymous and I have decided to share this with those who read it as I do not wish to comment publicly on this recent death. I have no desire to be part of the gossip mill and chose to remember her as the person she once was, my friend who I hope will find peace something she didn’t find in life RIP**