::::::::::::Chasing the Dragon:::::::::::::
London 1889
On a dark winters evening when the alabaster mist that rose from the polluted waters of the Thames hung so thick, lingered over Westminster Bridge that the lamps bobbled like buoys in the fog and the streets stood deserted, a scantly clad young girl stood beneath a streetlamp waiting for her next customer. Rubbing her pinched arms for warmth, she wrapped the threadbare shawl around her thin body tighter. People were walking past her in both directions, their backs bent and their faces veiled by the fog.
"Nice 'ot chestnuts, two pence for a bag," Mick bellowed to the passers by, stopping every now and then to flip over the nuts roasting on the feeble coal flame, "Come buy yer nice 'ot chestnut…" he stopped and fumbled frantically for a filthy handkerchief while coughing frantically all over the nuts. After his coughing fit had subdued he held the handkerchief in front of him and examined the fresh blood stains before grunting and shoving back the tattered rag to begin his call once more.
In hope of warming herself on the fire, Sally walked over to where Mick was standing and stretched her hands over the fire, rubbing them vigorously to return warmth to the tips.
"Bad night, Mick?" she inquired, licking her lips as the sweet fragrance of the nuts hit her.
"Piss off, Sally," he said, "Business is bad enough. I don't want any whores hanging round ruinin' my prospect of any toff customers. Scat!"
"Fuck you!" Sally muttered and kicked the stove, sending half done chestnuts scattering over the cobblestones.
"Bitch!" he called after her as he strained his back trying to gather the fallen nuts.
It was nights like this that Sally dreaded the most. All of her possible customers at home with their families, leaving her starved and without a place to doss in for the night. The Workhouse was not an option. Big Ben began to toll the hour. Eight…Nine…Ten…it had been more than three hours since her last customer, six shillings for a quick knee trembler. With her mind set on earning just enough to find public house with a room to doss in, Sally set towards White Chapel to try her luck near the Ten Bells.
Girls of all ages, some much younger than her, all hoping for the same thing loitered around outside. Deciding she'd have better luck further away where there weren't so many other prostitutes to contend with, Sally turned towards Lime house where the addicts stumbling home from an evening spend lolling on divans in the various Opium Dens would be far easier to solicit. She leant against a street lamp and closed her eyes, listening for footsteps in the derelict street.
A heavy set man wearing a heavy coat and bowler hat walked past her at a quick pace, ignoring her as he looked straight ahead. Reluctant to let him get away, Sally caught up with him and casually slipped her arm in his and leant closer, "Do you want me to suck it?" she whispered in his ear. He pushed her away and disappeared inside the Green Dragon. Disgruntled, Sally went back to leaning on the lamp post, waiting. Moments later the heavy set man emerged, a thin young man clinging to his side as he dragged him along. He stopped to steady his companion and sighed, "One of these days it's going to kill you, Fred." The young mans barely conscious body slumped lifelessly, "Fred? For Christ's sake! Snap out of it!" he cried, trying to bring some sense into his intoxicated friend. The young man groaned as they continued to stumble down the street, relying on his heavy set friend for balance. The two walked a few paces further till the young man eventually lost his footing and collapsed, light as a feather, his body making hardly a sound as he lay on the cobblestones. Sally watched with interest as the bear like man crouched beside his friend.
Merged with hazy abstraction, intricate harmony was flaunted before him as if past and present incarnated in the music were no longer painful to dwell upon. The details of his life removed and blended with obscure pensiveness, his passions illustrious, spiritualized and magnificent. All for the price of five shillings.
The pains of life Fred had lately struggled through were more than he wished to remember. Since he had no living relatives, he kept mistress opium by his side, watched over closely by the solace offered by laudanum and Absinthe who remained close to his heart. Fred lay as though he smiled, lost in delirium while he chased the dragon.
"Don't just stand there and gawk! Help me for God's sake!" insisted Godley, panicking at loss of what to do.
"You idiot!" cried Sally, "You'll break his neck like that!" she exclaimed as she watched Godley attempt to lift Fred.
Taking the girls advice, Godley cradled Fred's head and carried him over to the nearest stoop. "Right, you wait with him while I got find a cab." He instructed and disappeared around the corner.
Fred began to cough and choke, the silk black tie around his neck suppressing his gasp for air. With practiced skill Sally nimbly loosened the material and watched him struggle for breath, his head lolling in her lap, his hair falling in loose strands over his forehead. She pushed the hair out of his face, his wide coffee colored eyes searching her face intensely. Sally took thin his wrist in her hand and felt his pulse. His breath coming in guttural wheezes as he started to suffocate. She grasped him by the shoulders and tried to make him sit up.
He leant against her and looked up into her blue eyes, his dark lashes fluttering as he studied her face, "M –Mary?" he chocked, "Mary, is it really you?" he asked again, grasping her hand desperately.
Sally swallowed and looked at him compassionately, trying to think of something to say without disappointing him. She turned around to see Godley standing beside her, a brougham waiting behind him.
Still clutching her hand, Fred croaked in distress, eager for an answer, "Mary?" he asked again.
Sally turned to Godely, who mopped his brow and anxiously mouthed "y-e-s."
"Yes, Fred, it's me, Mary." Sally lied as the cabman helped lift Fred into the cab.
A/N: Godely, Fred, and Mary belong to the creators of the move – OBVIOUSLY. Well I'm off to be, hope you read and review, best wishes,
SugarxXx