Um yeah so this story is going to deal with some sensitive topics. I really don't want to say too much and give it away, but if you do like it then it would be awesome if you review and tell me what you think about it so far.
My feet fell heavy on the sagging stairs as I trudge upwards with my head hung low. This godforsaken dilapidated building was a giant coffin. The pale green paint on the walls was peeling and flaking off. Little bits off plaster scattered the floor alongside people with soulless eyes. During my first few experiences in this hellhole I had to stop and hold myself until I stopped my violent shaking and was able to keep my sobs in. Since then I've frequented the place more than enough times to desensitize myself to its effects. Once at the top of the stairs I looked out at the familiar hall and forced my legs to carry me further still. When I come to a point in hall where a light is out or is flickering I instinctively quicken my pace until I can identify my surroundings again. It takes everything inside me to ignore the sad drug addicts leaning against the walls, some I have to step over to continue until I get to my destination.
I don't need to check the door number before I knock. It also doesn't take long before movement can be heard coming from inside. A latch is undone and the door is opened to the width that the chain lets it. Movements were executed so quickly that in no time before I could fully look up the door was closed, chain unhooked, and opened all the way. Before me stood the most tragic and beautiful girl who shattered my heart every time I saw her. Sara's clothes hung limply off her thin body. It's been years since I've seen her without bags under tired eyes. I took a step inside and closed and locked the door behind me while my sister walked to the bed and lit up a cigarette.
"What the fuck are you looking at? Either get to the point of why you're here or get the fuck out."
I reached into my pocket, produced a handful of bills, walked over, and placed them on the nightstand. Sara grabbed a condom and tossed it at me. I didn't have the best reaction time so it fell to the floor and I bent down to retrieve it.
"Oh for fucks sake Tegan, think you could move any slower?"
That being said, I picked up the condom and sat awkwardly on the bed. Sara proceeded to take my pants and underwear off, smoke in mouth. She left to go put out her cigarette. This was my cue to insert the condom. While I waited for her to return I looked at the ceiling. It was the only thing that didn't make me want to vomit. Sara came back and started the normal routine. Like all the other times, I closed my eyes and tried to escape to a place where I wasn't paying my sister for sex because she refuses money from me any other way, arguing that she isn't some kind of charity. She tells me that she doesn't need my help but I can tell the only reason Sara barley holds on is because I make these trips to this terrible place. Her fingers thrust into me again and again before I clutched the bed as I felt myself about to cum. I bit my lip hard enough to draw blood because I'm terrified to yell out Sara's name when I climax. I took a second to gather myself before I opened my eyes again and wiped away the fresh blood.
Sara stood and watched as I fumbled with my pants. I made my way to the door and out of the corner of my eye I saw one of her needles on the floor. My sister's drug problem has been a sickening obvious but unspoken situation for years. Sara also hasn't spoken to any of our family for years. This is the only way I see her and make sure she's not dead on a street somewhere. Our family also assumes that Sara refuses to speak to me as well, which is somewhat of the truth. I love her so fucking much and I wish with all my heart that I could pry her away from the place where I was sure she would die, but Sara was a slave to the needle and I was merely a way to pay for another fix. Did I feel guilty about giving my sister the money for more heroin and whatever else she was probably on? It killed me to think that way. I knew mostly what she was paying for but I also knew that she had to eat even though she didn't look like she had in days. She also had to pay rent. I could only hope that at least a portion of my sex money was going towards her keeping herself alive.
Sara really did look thinner than normal, and before I started down the hallway I timidly asked if she would like to go get something to eat with me. Her response was slamming the door in my face and locking it. I wasn't expecting my sister to come eat with me and I was beginning to feel that offers similar to that were becoming less and less realistic to be accepted.
Before exiting the building into the night I pulled my hoodie over my head and moved my hair to cover the shame in my eyes. This part of town eats people alive and it was best to try and look as much like a guy as I could before I got to the bus. On the bus I held my head in my hands and tried to think back to when things first started to spiral out of control.