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Cut And Run

Chapter 6

3/15/2004


Thinking back, she remembered people in the house had told the girls there was no such thing as an overdose of acid, or bad trips. She'll argue that issue, to this day, 'cause she is sure she overdosed that first night in Hollywood. The last thing she remembered was lying on her bed, that ran the same direction as the traffic ran down stairs, just outside the windows, and one story down. If a car came from the direction of the head of the bed, she felt it, as if the car ran inside her, from her head to her toes. And if the car came from the direction of the foot of the bed, her body vibrated from her toes to her head. She lay there, just feeling the battle of the traffic within the very center of her, and then she was lost. For hours. She reflected, she actually would rather be lost sometimes than be her self.

She does vaguely remember seeing an angel that night, with long blond hair, and golden light glowing all around her. She later found out Bobbi had come into to visit with her, and the "angel" was Bobbi, and the golden light around her was just the light in the hallway, filling the doorway behind Bobbi. It had been a beautiful and hopeful vision though.

Her boyfriend told her later she had cried some and was telling him, she wanted Marilyn there. Marilyn had been the closest thing she had ever had to a best friend from when she was bout 8 years old, up until she was 14. Since they moved around so much, and since she did not really know how to be a friend herself back then, that was not really saying much. But according to Craig, she really wanted to talk to "Mare," that night, when she was tripping harder than she ever had, or ever would again.

She never had another trip like that one, ever again. Nor did she ever want to trip like that again! It went against her fears of losing control. But it did not stop her from trying things. She was always swallowing, snorting or smoking something. If someone told her it was going to make her feel good. She liked the stuff that made her numb, most of all. But she had some allergy problems which always led to tossing her cookies. Even having fun, had it's price tag.

Now she wonders how she lived through some of the things she went through. Not just the stuff she used, but the road she traveled... Like the time she was thumbing to her first apartment on Jeffereson, in Culver City, and some guy picked her up on his motorcycle. He told her he would take her all the way home, but first, he had to stop at his place for something. It was one of the few times her thumbing instincts failed her. She simply said, "Okay."

They stopped at his pad. He told her he had some wine, but she explained she hated wine cuz she had overdosed on Red Mountain once and she had an aversion to it now. She also told him she really just had to get back to her pad. He was persistent, and made her a glass of wine mixed with lemonaide. She still hated it, gagged on it and wouldn't drink it. When he couldn't get her drunk, he just went for broke, and was on her, pushing her back and down, pawing at her. She kept telling him, "No!" He was saying, "Yes," and would not let her up from the sofa.

She tried reasoning with him, and got no where. She plead with him, and he acted as if he did not hear her. She tried crying, but it did not even slow him down. Finally she told him, "You know, here I am trying to be open-minded and I trusted you, you lied to me and now you are being such jerk. People like you, make people like me, call you (and she spewed the "n" word)!" The guy went nuts! He jumped off of her. He yelled at her, he would kill her if she called him that hated word again, or how, if was any other black man, he would kill her! Like he was doing her some favor, by not ending her life right then and there. She told him that was fine by her, and that if he wanted to kill her, she'd go and get him a knife from the kitchen and let him do it, cuz she would rather get cut and die, than get raped again! She was having bad flash backs to the rape that happened just two years before this! And she wondered silently, "God, where are you now?"

They stood there, yelling at each other, and she was crying... Suddenly, lying through her teeth, without knowing why she was saying it, she told him she had to throw up! He grabbed her by the hand, dragged her into the bathroom, stood her if front of the commode and told her, "Go ahead!" Later in life, she was sure it was God, Himself, putting words in her mouth and the clarity that followed.

She looked at the commode, stomach tight, but no where near tossing her cookies. Still, feeling terrified. She suddenly looked to her right, at a window next to the toilet, then back at the man who had her cornered in the bathroom. She was scared, no, she was terrified. Then she got angry! Suddenly she felt as big as he looked to her. Fear was leaving her tiny body. She looked at the window again. He got nervous and pulled the shade down. "Perfect!" she thought, and her right arm shot straight out, and through the glass, somewhat protected by the shade he had just pulled down. "Idiot," she thought!

She felt herself puff up, and she was the one who suddenly got crazy and dangerous. She yelled at him, "You better let me out of here by the time I count three, or I'm gonna break out every freaking window in this place, then I'm gonna scream "fire" at the top of my lungs and someone is gonna hear me! And now, I'm gonna count!" And she started to count!

He begged her to stop, to just cool down. He begged her to let him look at the cuts on her arm and put some band-aids on it. He was apologizing. Now he was begging her! She had scared him! The tables were turned. And it felt good! Later in life, when she told people about it, said she could really relate to the part of the Bible, when King David pretends to go crazy and lives in the woods alone, 'til he's ready to come back full force. Crazy! Crazy like ole King David, she was that day! Crazy enough to scare her enemy away from her, and make her escape. Crazy enough to survive! That was one of the most empowering events of her life and she was learning that she could say, "No," and win.

But what if he had let her go into the kitchen that day, and let her get the knife, and... What if he had been more like Jeffry Dahmer, instead of a chicken-shit man trying to rape a tiny, 17 year old girl, no-one protected, or cared enough about to keep safe? Well, then that would have been the end of her story. That's for sure. But she got away. And she never fell for the line, "I gotta stop by my place first," ever again! At least she learned from her lessons. And her instincts got better, every time she survived. Try to get me drunk and rape me!? Huh! Well! Crazy like ole King David sure surprised that guy! And it surprised her too! Not till later in life, when she started giving God His dues in her life, did she know that day, He was with her every step of the way!

Continued... Next Chapter

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Copyright (c) 2004 J D COSS . All rights reserved.

"There was a child went forth every day, and the first object he looked upon and recieved with wonder or pity or love or dread, that object he became... And that object became part of him for the day... or for many years or stretching cycles of years." Walt Whitman


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