(Author's Note: This is a small, disjointed blip of writing I did based on a world that a friend of mine created. I apologize for the fact that some of it may not make any sense at all. Prepare to meet some characters that are entirely too dysfunctional for their own good. As terrible as almost everyone in the story is, they're a blast to write.

If you get lost or confused, I put a basic description of terms and characters at the bottom of the page. I didn't wanna put it here and ruin anyone's fun.

And with that, here's what I wrote.)

Marla Brighthammer's wrinkled lips expertly gripped the cigar that was wedged between her teeth. She puffed on it occasionally, most often when I took a pause in my story to stew. It was hard to concentrate with the red-hot smog of the mines pouring into my lungs. I recognized the signs; I was starting to lose my cool for the seventh time today. If it wasn't for Marla's eyes imploring me to continue my tale, I would have likely gone back to my bunk and wished for a swift death. She always had a soft spot for romance.

"Well? C'mon, girly, you can't stop there."

"I know. For Heaven's sake, Marla, this isn't one of your novels. This shit's real and it's hard to talk about."

Her soot-stained golden ringlets bounced as she shook her head at me. "It's not for my own good. You need to get this out of you before it eats you whole."

After a moment of deliberation, I hesitantly and defensively picked up where I left off. "So Gabriel stormed out of the vaults and I finished packing my things away for the auctioneer. Went over there and sold every spoon, jacket and chair I owned, and everything in between."

"You get much for it?"

"About half of what I needed to get into that academy. Of course, I didn't know Khalt would eventually be paying for all that."

It had only been a few seconds since I began my thought but I needed to stop once more. Between the tremors, nightmares, chills, and headaches of my withdrawal, I found myself in a constant state of confusion. This was the only time of day I felt like my existence involved more than just survival, but I still couldn't speak more than three sentences at a time.

"We met at the Blue Heron," I continued. "I was in that pretty dress Gabriel saw me in earlier but Khalt was wearing the same shit he always wore. We were in one of those corner tables up on the second floor. He gave me a few drinks and a meal, got me loosened up. I started rambling about Gabe and then he reached over the table and held out a cigarette to me."

Marla's lips nearly let the cigar fall on to the table between us. "Was it-"

I held up my hand and interrupted her. "Marla, if you wanna hear the story, don't be interrupting me. I was gonna tell you what it was. And close your mouth or you're gonna waste that." I pointed to the cigar wobbling at the corner of her mouth.

I shook my head to clear my thoughts. The agitation was finding a home in me again.

"He explained it was thistle. I couldn't fucking believe it, so I just stared at it for a while 'cause I hadn't seen one before. There was such a hate in me then, seeing Gabe's vice like that right in front of me. For some reason it didn't seem like such a bad idea at the time."

What I meant to say was, "I wanted to see what it was that Gabriel loved more than me."

Marla seemed to detect my evasion but kept her trap firmly shut as I'd demanded. It's probably the first time she ever listened to me. Ever.

"It knocked me flat on my ass. I knew all the while I was out of control, but after just one hit I was roped into all of Khalt's mess. I was with him for about 4 months and he kept me high as a fucking kite so I would only be half-aware of all the shit that was going on right in front of me." I had to pause for a moment to consider how to reveal the rest of my experience delicately. The absurdity of that notion immediately sunk in, and I hated myself further for feeling it was my responsibility to be delicate about my ordeal.

Speaking in fragmented sentences, punctuated by long pauses and sighs, I danced and sparred with the truth of the matter. "He had... There was a lot of... fury in him, and... See, I made him mad all the time... Sometimes if I didn't do the... the right thing he'd, uh... Well, I had a lot to learn."

What I mean to say was, "He liked my lips and breasts, and didn't like me being much more."

After a long pause, Marla spoke again. "What'd he do when you said you were leaving?"

Blinking again and again, as if the imagery in my mind was dust that could be cleared from my eyes, I struggled not to slip into some dark train of thought. I spoke with as little emotion as I could. "He pointed a gun at me, told me to beg for my life."

"Did you?"

"No," I said with a wag of my head.

"Fuck me, I'm impressed." She took another strong puff from her cigar.

"He told me to run and not come back, so I did. Paid a visit to Foreman Gibbs and here I am."

"What about Gabriel and Aiden?"

My eyes rose to meet hers. I didn't want to answer the question, so I defaulted to being a hard-ass. "What about them?"

"Oh, don't play that game with me. You know what I'm talking about." She sat straight in her chair and took the cigar from her mouth in between her first and middle fingers, pointing them at me as she spoke. "You're a fucking idiot if you left without a word. I applaud you for coming back to the mines to get yourself straightened out and sobered up, but what's it all worth if you don't have anything to go back to? Wake up, Alva. If you do get outta her alive and with half your brain, are you any better off?"

My jaw tightened as the agitation climbed higher from it's deep, wretched home within my chest. What a bitch. What a two-faced, thrill-seeking ass she is to try and get a reaction from me. I refused to let her have it.

I leaned forward on the table and looked away from Marla. She scrutinized me with her sharp blue eyes as I closed my own and allowed my mind to wander. Swinging from one extreme to another, I found myself standing in front of Gabriel again, as I had a few weeks ago. I opened my eyes and saw the scene perfectly. The hatred on his face as he looked over my bruised shoulders and eyes was unlike anything I'd ever seen. With his fists clenched at his sides, ready to reach out and make contact with my body, he might as well have been Khalt. And even with that anger burning in him, he still couldn't keep his eyes off the tall woman beside him, dressed in the silk gown he had tailored himself.

"Gabriel and I don't have a future together. What you don't understand is that Gabe belongs to everyone and no one. He keeps all his old flames burning low. I look to my right and see Aiden's drugged mother and greasy hookers in red lipstick. I look to my left and see a strapping young lad with a glass of bourbon that's offering him a temporary high." Shrugging my shoulders, I had trouble seeing through the film of tears that burned in my eyes. "He doesn't value me any higher than the others. Never did."

Marla flicked what ashes she could from the tip of her half-smoked cigar, quiet once again.

"As for Aiden..." I paused and recalled with stinging clarity how Gabriel compared me that day to his child's whore of a mother. Looking down at my wrists and peeling back the edge of the bandages to see the mark I'd inflicted a few weeks before, I considered trying it again. "I left a letter with a friend. He'll deliver it to Aiden if something happens to me."

The two of us sat there in silence for nearly a minute before my friend moved.

Marla nodded firmly many times, turning her head slightly to peer at me more directly as she extinguished the remainder of her cigar. "That's real shit there, lady." She couldn't hide the satisfaction in her voice. "But I've got to know one last thing."

I didn't know what more she could want from me, but I relaxed myself on the stool beneath me and gave a quiet sigh. "Alright."

"Did you sell your wedding dress with the rest of your things?"

I lied. "Yeah. Yeah, I did."

An enormous, boisterous laugh erupted from Marla then. When she caught her breath she leaned across the table and punched my shoulder, saying, "You're a cold-hearted bitch."

I could only grin.

"Yeah, I know."

(Basic Descriptions:

Gabriel – a misfit of the upper class society, involved in drugs and gambling and all sorts of pleasant things, ex-husband of Alva, father of Aiden

Alva – a runty, unwanted sort of character, ex-wife of Gabriel, closest thing to a mother Aiden knows

Aiden – pret-teen child of Gabriel, step-child of Alva

Marla – works in the mines with Alva, one of her closer friends

Khalt – drug-dealing sonofabitch mob leader with a pitch black heart, constantly screws things up

thistle – common drug, highly hallucinogenic and highly addictive)