Autumn was now at its peak. Everywhere brown and golden leaves whirled
around in the air, the wind seemingly had never ceased and the rain was
torrential. The whole world seemed grey, the whole town seemed like it was
trapped in a dull shadow. Mercedes lay in her grand four poster bed, its
silken curtains were pulled shut and her abundance of fur quilts were
wrapped around her so tightly and with her pale head sticking out she quite
resembled a snail with an almighty shell made of expensive Gucci fur. In
any case, that snail had very good taste.
There seemed little else to do, now. She had rang the girls, but all three of them were out. The relentless noise of the rain battered her windows and she felt cosy in her quilted cocoon. Suddenly, she heard the latest chart- topper playing in a polyphonic ring tone. Mercedes moaned and rolled over and kicked away her furs and hundred dollar pillows. She somnolently scaled the mountain of material and fell out of bed. She found her mobile phone in the ass pocket of her jeans which she had thrown out of bed the night before.
She cleared her throat. "Hello?" "Yo, Mercedes baby, I have your 'shipment' in; nice and new and FRESH!" "Ah! Quentin, just what I was looking for, something to make these bothersome days fly by." "Oh baby, you'll be flying with this I can tell you!" "Hmmm...where can I collect the shit?" "The usual spot girl. What time should I be expecting you?" "Any minute now."
Seconds after she ended the call she screeched for her ladies in waiting to come. "Kim Ly! Mai! Linh! Trinh!" And she added more quietly, "and the rest of you Charlie bitches, get on in here!" In a few minutes she had been transformed from her bedraggled bedroom look, into her usual sumptuous self. She left the house in the lashing rain to collect her 'shipment'. She took the white Lamborghini, and chose Mai as her chauffeur.
The journey to the city centre was swift; the rain seemed to have scared everyone off the roads. Only a few people were on the streets. They drove the winding city streets into the old, derelict part of town. Their spotless white car looking like a shiny coin which had fallen into a pile of shit as it raced through the streets. It came to a sudden stop outside a very old building. The windows of this building were boarded up with rotten wood, and the face of the building was covered with graffiti which depicted vulgar scenes. Mercedes was not sure what the building used to be, and she didn't much care. Mai got out and opened the car door for Mercedes. She then held Mercedes' umbrella for her, as they made the short trip down the alley behind the building. The rain battered the umbrella and it sounded like a thousand angry bees were banging into the umbrella, trying to tear through and sting Mercedes.
Behind the building, there came a warm glow from a door which had a few planks nailed to it. Mercedes ducked under the planks and Mai waited outside. In a shocking contrast from the outside, the inside was like that of a King's palace...or Mercedes' living room. Luxurious sofas, a massive roaring fire, a CD player belting out thug tunes, plush pelt rugs and a very fancy glass table. In this room sat a variety of people. It was very dim and very smoky, in fact, so smoky that you'd swear there was a mini- forest fire ablaze in the corner. This smoke, however, smelt sweet, smelt like drugs. Mercedes used her hands to brush away the puffs of smoke and took note of her surroundings. Ten or so men sat on the sofa, a few were standing. A man and woman danced near the CD player, they moved very closely. Ecstatic moans could be heard from somewhere else in the building and one man sat in the centre of all the ruckus, adorned with unbelievably glimmering necklaces and rings. He wore sunglasses even though there was absolutely no need to; one of his teeth was solid gold. He wore black clothes and a black bandana with a red lightning strike emblazoned on the front of it. He had swarthy, mulatto skin and he puffed away at a joint as several pretty girls, clad in very little, or nothing at all, sat on, or around him. This was Quentin. He gave off an aura of authority despite his skinny frame. He was a real gangster.
"Mercedes, my girl!" Quentin called and handed his joint to one of his concubines who hungrily sucked on it. He moved forward and clasped Mercedes hands and pulled her into him. She kissed him on the cheek. He pushed one of the girls beside him away and Mercedes sat down. He winked at her, from behind his sunglasses, (but Mercedes could tell, because of how his eyebrow slanted) and he pulled out a bag of white powder. "That should keep you hot for awhile." Quentin clicked his fingers, and a man moved over, opened the back, and poured a portion of the fine white crystals onto the glass table. He sorted the powder out into a long white strip. Mercedes' mouth watered. She handed Quentin a very heavy wallet of cash. She then moved forward and snorted the white powder.
The feeling which followed was like an orgasm which had been magnified thousands of times, and the afterglow was even better. She felt her heart beating and her blood flowing. This is what it felt to be alive. She threw her head back on Quentin's grand sofa and looked him in the eye (or where his eye would be, if he weren't wearing sunglasses). "I know another way we can get hot." She went to unbutton her shirt but Quentin stopped her. "As much as I'd like to," Quentin smiled softly, "I can't." He pointed towards a girl sitting at the edge of the sofa. This girl giggled with another man, her laugh was sweet, like the peal of a bell. She was beautiful. Compared with all the other wenches in the room, whose eyes were blood shot and ringed with black, whose teeth were yellow and whose lips were cracked, this girl was an angel. Mercedes felt like someone had hit her with a hammer. Right in the heart. She must be mistaken, Quentin, a gangster loser was going out with this woman!? And what the hell was a woman like that doing in a place like this!? "Her name's Shaneequah," Quentin added softly, "she's sweet, aint she?" Mercedes nodded. She grabbed her bag of white stuff and left the room. There was some raucous laughter as she went. Were they laughing at her? She stormed out of the shack so quickly that Mai, who was waiting outside and didn't even see her coming, nearly collided with her. Mai quickly ran after Mercedes with the umbrella and accidentally stood on Mercedes expensive boots. "Ass hole!" Mercedes screeched and turned and slapped Mai. Mai looked completely shocked, as did Mercedes. Mai was used to a lot of verbal abuse but never physical attacks. Mai took a step back. Mercedes felt a little surprised at what she had done, and felt a little sorry, she was a bad girl but Mai did not deserve that. She wanted to say sorry but didn't know what to say. But Mai was her servant! She was confused. She clicked her fingers and Mai followed her back to the car.
A year or so ago, Mercedes had spent a lot of time with Quentin. His Daddy was really rich and they had met a local party. She had done soft drugs like pot before but Quentin got her into the hard stuff. She had seen him, standing awkwardly in a tie and suit across the dance floor. He looked gawky, standing beside the punch bowl. He had no sunglasses on here, and his collar was pulled up high to hide a large tattoo of a naked lady riding a dragon, which started at the bottom of his neck, and swam down his dark skinned chest to end at his belly button. He looked so rough that it was obvious he didn't fit in. You could tell he did NOT want to be there. It looked as if someone had gone into the jungle, caught a tiger and put it into a suit. This was how wild and out of place Quentin looked. Mercedes didn't mind these parties, it was another excuse to get drunk, but she had been intrigued by Quentin as soon as she had seen him. She wandered on over to him, her sexy little ass moving in insouciant half-swings. Normally, guys were nervous when they came across this glimmering beauty but Quentin did not seem at all fazed.
"Hi..." Mercedes began, smiling seductively. "Hey, what's up?" Quentin returned casually.
"You look bored." "I am."
"You know, these parties aren't so bad, free booze and all," Mercedes giggled. "I guess, this just aint my scene, y'know?" "Uhhuh, so, what is your scene?" "I'll show you."
Quentin took Mercedes' delicate hand in his large, spidery one and took her upstairs. They found a dark room, which was beautifully decorated with a large double bed. Quentin locked the door and pulled out of his suit pocket a bag of white powder. This sight was to become a comforting sight to Mercedes over the next few years. Like a friend, like how a little girl feels when she hugs her favourite dolly. Quentin, like a pro, assembled the powder into a long and narrow white line. "Snort it," he told Mercedes. She was tipsy and very excited. She leaned forward and snorted the white powder.
The usual orgasmic feeling followed, one which would never tire through repetition. Quentin took the next snort. Both of them lay for a second, dazed by the waves of pleasure each one was experiencing. And then Quentin rolled over and pressed his big 'black man' lips against Mercedes. She was more than reciprocal. Her tongue was like a snake! She moved slowly down Quentin's body where she felt his great and warm quivering member pressed against her. The feeling was pleasurable. She pulled his dick out and began sucking.
For months after that Quentin and Mercedes would meet up to fuck and take drugs together. At this time Mercedes had been taking a lot of beatings at home and other types of 'punishments,' thanks to the arrival of her mother's new boyfriend Roy. With Quentin and the drugs she could forget the pain. Soon everything was numb. She didn't laugh or cry, she couldn't feel very much other than physical pleasure. At one stage, she was in the city when she witnessed a horrendous car crash. After the initial shock, Mercedes felt nothing. No horror, no sorrow. Nothing. However this changed when she was with Quentin. Was she in love or just happy? But lying beside him in a dimly light room filled her with so much joy. When she saw his chocolate eyes she felt like an aeroplane revving up and ready to take off, with so much heat and energy, and when they fucked, she was flying!
However Quentin didn't see it that way. Mercedes was not the "kind of girl to settle down with." She was good for a fuck, but not good enough to love. Mercedes, foolishly, believing she was Quentin's girlfriend, while all the time, he had other girls and didn't feel the same about her. If her heart hadn't already been shattered long before, it would have broken again. What was wrong with her? What was so different between her and Shaneequah?
She looked at herself in the mirror of the car. She was pretty. But her eyes, they were so ugly. Shaneequah's glowed with life, Mercedes' was cold and grey and dead. Mercedes hated the movies where, after a night of passion, the girl and guy would wake up and the girl would lie across the guy's chest. They were in love. This wasn't true, every time Mercedes woke up after a night of sex, the guy was always gone. Except for Quentin. We would never leave. That was why she loved him...or thought she did. Wash away all the gang chic and Quentin was a normal guy, and best of all, he treated her like she was a human.
That's how Eric treated her. Eric LaValle, the boy who she now had a crush on, the boy who also had rejected her. A crush! What age are you...? But she loved being in love, there was so much hope. Even though Eric didn't take her on, he still treated her like she was a human. Didn't use her, or didn't disrespect her, just treated her like a normal girl. And that was the nicest feeling, one she had sought all her life, because, ever since a young age, Mercedes had been treated like a dog.
Her dreary introspection was interrupted by the persistent ringing of her mobile. She answered it.
"Hello?" "Hey...Mercedes! It's me, Amber." "Watsup?" "I have to baby-sit my little brother, I'm taking him to bananas, wanna come with?" "Bananas? Me?" "Well...there's nothing much else to do." "Umm..." "Pu-lease!" "On second thoughts, y'know, I think I will."
There seemed little else to do, now. She had rang the girls, but all three of them were out. The relentless noise of the rain battered her windows and she felt cosy in her quilted cocoon. Suddenly, she heard the latest chart- topper playing in a polyphonic ring tone. Mercedes moaned and rolled over and kicked away her furs and hundred dollar pillows. She somnolently scaled the mountain of material and fell out of bed. She found her mobile phone in the ass pocket of her jeans which she had thrown out of bed the night before.
She cleared her throat. "Hello?" "Yo, Mercedes baby, I have your 'shipment' in; nice and new and FRESH!" "Ah! Quentin, just what I was looking for, something to make these bothersome days fly by." "Oh baby, you'll be flying with this I can tell you!" "Hmmm...where can I collect the shit?" "The usual spot girl. What time should I be expecting you?" "Any minute now."
Seconds after she ended the call she screeched for her ladies in waiting to come. "Kim Ly! Mai! Linh! Trinh!" And she added more quietly, "and the rest of you Charlie bitches, get on in here!" In a few minutes she had been transformed from her bedraggled bedroom look, into her usual sumptuous self. She left the house in the lashing rain to collect her 'shipment'. She took the white Lamborghini, and chose Mai as her chauffeur.
The journey to the city centre was swift; the rain seemed to have scared everyone off the roads. Only a few people were on the streets. They drove the winding city streets into the old, derelict part of town. Their spotless white car looking like a shiny coin which had fallen into a pile of shit as it raced through the streets. It came to a sudden stop outside a very old building. The windows of this building were boarded up with rotten wood, and the face of the building was covered with graffiti which depicted vulgar scenes. Mercedes was not sure what the building used to be, and she didn't much care. Mai got out and opened the car door for Mercedes. She then held Mercedes' umbrella for her, as they made the short trip down the alley behind the building. The rain battered the umbrella and it sounded like a thousand angry bees were banging into the umbrella, trying to tear through and sting Mercedes.
Behind the building, there came a warm glow from a door which had a few planks nailed to it. Mercedes ducked under the planks and Mai waited outside. In a shocking contrast from the outside, the inside was like that of a King's palace...or Mercedes' living room. Luxurious sofas, a massive roaring fire, a CD player belting out thug tunes, plush pelt rugs and a very fancy glass table. In this room sat a variety of people. It was very dim and very smoky, in fact, so smoky that you'd swear there was a mini- forest fire ablaze in the corner. This smoke, however, smelt sweet, smelt like drugs. Mercedes used her hands to brush away the puffs of smoke and took note of her surroundings. Ten or so men sat on the sofa, a few were standing. A man and woman danced near the CD player, they moved very closely. Ecstatic moans could be heard from somewhere else in the building and one man sat in the centre of all the ruckus, adorned with unbelievably glimmering necklaces and rings. He wore sunglasses even though there was absolutely no need to; one of his teeth was solid gold. He wore black clothes and a black bandana with a red lightning strike emblazoned on the front of it. He had swarthy, mulatto skin and he puffed away at a joint as several pretty girls, clad in very little, or nothing at all, sat on, or around him. This was Quentin. He gave off an aura of authority despite his skinny frame. He was a real gangster.
"Mercedes, my girl!" Quentin called and handed his joint to one of his concubines who hungrily sucked on it. He moved forward and clasped Mercedes hands and pulled her into him. She kissed him on the cheek. He pushed one of the girls beside him away and Mercedes sat down. He winked at her, from behind his sunglasses, (but Mercedes could tell, because of how his eyebrow slanted) and he pulled out a bag of white powder. "That should keep you hot for awhile." Quentin clicked his fingers, and a man moved over, opened the back, and poured a portion of the fine white crystals onto the glass table. He sorted the powder out into a long white strip. Mercedes' mouth watered. She handed Quentin a very heavy wallet of cash. She then moved forward and snorted the white powder.
The feeling which followed was like an orgasm which had been magnified thousands of times, and the afterglow was even better. She felt her heart beating and her blood flowing. This is what it felt to be alive. She threw her head back on Quentin's grand sofa and looked him in the eye (or where his eye would be, if he weren't wearing sunglasses). "I know another way we can get hot." She went to unbutton her shirt but Quentin stopped her. "As much as I'd like to," Quentin smiled softly, "I can't." He pointed towards a girl sitting at the edge of the sofa. This girl giggled with another man, her laugh was sweet, like the peal of a bell. She was beautiful. Compared with all the other wenches in the room, whose eyes were blood shot and ringed with black, whose teeth were yellow and whose lips were cracked, this girl was an angel. Mercedes felt like someone had hit her with a hammer. Right in the heart. She must be mistaken, Quentin, a gangster loser was going out with this woman!? And what the hell was a woman like that doing in a place like this!? "Her name's Shaneequah," Quentin added softly, "she's sweet, aint she?" Mercedes nodded. She grabbed her bag of white stuff and left the room. There was some raucous laughter as she went. Were they laughing at her? She stormed out of the shack so quickly that Mai, who was waiting outside and didn't even see her coming, nearly collided with her. Mai quickly ran after Mercedes with the umbrella and accidentally stood on Mercedes expensive boots. "Ass hole!" Mercedes screeched and turned and slapped Mai. Mai looked completely shocked, as did Mercedes. Mai was used to a lot of verbal abuse but never physical attacks. Mai took a step back. Mercedes felt a little surprised at what she had done, and felt a little sorry, she was a bad girl but Mai did not deserve that. She wanted to say sorry but didn't know what to say. But Mai was her servant! She was confused. She clicked her fingers and Mai followed her back to the car.
A year or so ago, Mercedes had spent a lot of time with Quentin. His Daddy was really rich and they had met a local party. She had done soft drugs like pot before but Quentin got her into the hard stuff. She had seen him, standing awkwardly in a tie and suit across the dance floor. He looked gawky, standing beside the punch bowl. He had no sunglasses on here, and his collar was pulled up high to hide a large tattoo of a naked lady riding a dragon, which started at the bottom of his neck, and swam down his dark skinned chest to end at his belly button. He looked so rough that it was obvious he didn't fit in. You could tell he did NOT want to be there. It looked as if someone had gone into the jungle, caught a tiger and put it into a suit. This was how wild and out of place Quentin looked. Mercedes didn't mind these parties, it was another excuse to get drunk, but she had been intrigued by Quentin as soon as she had seen him. She wandered on over to him, her sexy little ass moving in insouciant half-swings. Normally, guys were nervous when they came across this glimmering beauty but Quentin did not seem at all fazed.
"Hi..." Mercedes began, smiling seductively. "Hey, what's up?" Quentin returned casually.
"You look bored." "I am."
"You know, these parties aren't so bad, free booze and all," Mercedes giggled. "I guess, this just aint my scene, y'know?" "Uhhuh, so, what is your scene?" "I'll show you."
Quentin took Mercedes' delicate hand in his large, spidery one and took her upstairs. They found a dark room, which was beautifully decorated with a large double bed. Quentin locked the door and pulled out of his suit pocket a bag of white powder. This sight was to become a comforting sight to Mercedes over the next few years. Like a friend, like how a little girl feels when she hugs her favourite dolly. Quentin, like a pro, assembled the powder into a long and narrow white line. "Snort it," he told Mercedes. She was tipsy and very excited. She leaned forward and snorted the white powder.
The usual orgasmic feeling followed, one which would never tire through repetition. Quentin took the next snort. Both of them lay for a second, dazed by the waves of pleasure each one was experiencing. And then Quentin rolled over and pressed his big 'black man' lips against Mercedes. She was more than reciprocal. Her tongue was like a snake! She moved slowly down Quentin's body where she felt his great and warm quivering member pressed against her. The feeling was pleasurable. She pulled his dick out and began sucking.
For months after that Quentin and Mercedes would meet up to fuck and take drugs together. At this time Mercedes had been taking a lot of beatings at home and other types of 'punishments,' thanks to the arrival of her mother's new boyfriend Roy. With Quentin and the drugs she could forget the pain. Soon everything was numb. She didn't laugh or cry, she couldn't feel very much other than physical pleasure. At one stage, she was in the city when she witnessed a horrendous car crash. After the initial shock, Mercedes felt nothing. No horror, no sorrow. Nothing. However this changed when she was with Quentin. Was she in love or just happy? But lying beside him in a dimly light room filled her with so much joy. When she saw his chocolate eyes she felt like an aeroplane revving up and ready to take off, with so much heat and energy, and when they fucked, she was flying!
However Quentin didn't see it that way. Mercedes was not the "kind of girl to settle down with." She was good for a fuck, but not good enough to love. Mercedes, foolishly, believing she was Quentin's girlfriend, while all the time, he had other girls and didn't feel the same about her. If her heart hadn't already been shattered long before, it would have broken again. What was wrong with her? What was so different between her and Shaneequah?
She looked at herself in the mirror of the car. She was pretty. But her eyes, they were so ugly. Shaneequah's glowed with life, Mercedes' was cold and grey and dead. Mercedes hated the movies where, after a night of passion, the girl and guy would wake up and the girl would lie across the guy's chest. They were in love. This wasn't true, every time Mercedes woke up after a night of sex, the guy was always gone. Except for Quentin. We would never leave. That was why she loved him...or thought she did. Wash away all the gang chic and Quentin was a normal guy, and best of all, he treated her like she was a human.
That's how Eric treated her. Eric LaValle, the boy who she now had a crush on, the boy who also had rejected her. A crush! What age are you...? But she loved being in love, there was so much hope. Even though Eric didn't take her on, he still treated her like she was a human. Didn't use her, or didn't disrespect her, just treated her like a normal girl. And that was the nicest feeling, one she had sought all her life, because, ever since a young age, Mercedes had been treated like a dog.
Her dreary introspection was interrupted by the persistent ringing of her mobile. She answered it.
"Hello?" "Hey...Mercedes! It's me, Amber." "Watsup?" "I have to baby-sit my little brother, I'm taking him to bananas, wanna come with?" "Bananas? Me?" "Well...there's nothing much else to do." "Umm..." "Pu-lease!" "On second thoughts, y'know, I think I will."