When I was three my first younger sibling was born. My mom had given me a little sister. I was really happy that I had a little sister because I felt so lonely most of the time. I would help my mother bathe her, change her, and dress her. I used to draw pictures for her and sing songs to her to help her sleep. I was happy with one little sister; I never imagined that I would end up with four more siblings.

I didn't like that my mother kept giving me siblings. I ended up with three more sisters and a brother. I tried to imagine that they weren't there. They used to cry so much. I hate the sound of babies crying. I really want to have a baby with Roger, but I'm afraid I'd end up going insane if I had to listen it cry.

I'm not even sure if they were my full siblings or not. My father, or the man my mom told me was my father, didn't live with us. He lived in the apartment three floors below us and I used to hate having to spend time with him. He always had needles on the table and it smelled like urine in his place. I used to sit out on the fire escape drawing pictures for the little sister that I loved, Rosa.

My mom used to have lots of men and women coming in and out of our tiny apartment. Sometimes they would give me little gifts. One woman gave me a hair clip that I still have. She smelled like lavender and wore red lipstick. She let me stay with her for awhile after I took off from home.

I used to wear my mom's mini skirts to school when I turned thirteen. All the guys would stare and wink at me. I liked that. I lost my virginity to this blue eyed blonde boy named Alex. It hurt a lot and he didn't know where to put it. Now that I think about it, it was really the most unpleasant thing that ever happened to me.

My best friend, Sarah, and I snuck into a strip bar once. Her older brother let us in through the back door. I think he worked there, but I'm not to sure. I was mesmerized by the pretty ladies dancing and how the men drooled over them. There was one woman there who had long, dark, curly hair like me and her eyes were the green color of my cat's. I walked up to her after the show.

"Hi," I smiled.

She returned my smile and her teeth were really white.

"Hey, sweetheart. What are you doing here?" she asked, sitting down.

"I wanted to see women dance, you were really good and you're really pretty."

"Aw, thank you, baby! Do you want to be a dancer when you grow up?" she asked, lighting up a cigarette and then offering me one.

I took the slim white stick into my fingers and took a deep drag when she lit it up for me. It made me want to cough, but I fought that and let the gray smoke curl out of my mouth.

"I'm already grown up," I replied, enjoying the look on her face and walked out of the club to join Sarah.

I wanted to be an exotic dancer. I knew my mother wouldn't let me, so I tried to think of ways I could get around her. The answer came to me one day a little bit after my fourteenth birthday. My mother informed me that she was pregnant again. No way was I going to live in that place with another baby. I decided that I was going to leave. I put everything I owned into a suitcase.

"I'm leaving," I informed my pregnant mother.

"Be careful," she said, her eyes not leaving the television.

I haven't been back since. My mother still calls from time to time, but I never answer. I wish I kept in touch with Rosa. She was the only part of my family I loved. Oh well, I can't change the past. I really don't want to.

I lived with that lady for awhile and she told me they were looking for dancers at the Cat Scratch Club. I got hold of a fake idea and I started dancing there. It was easy to get in and out of the handcuffs. I loved it, plus I earned lots of tips. There was a man who used to come a lot to the club. His name was Benny.

One night a man and his girlfriend came into the club. The man kept watching me while the girl kept drinking. He walked up to me while I was outside taking a smoke break.

"You're really good at getting out of those handcuffs," he grinned.

"Thanks," I replied through puffs of my cigarette.

"You look really young. How old are you?" he asked.

"None of your business," I scoffed.

He chuckled a little bit and shook his head.

"I'm Roger," he said before heading off with his girlfriend.

I was living with Angel by then. I loved her to death. She was the only person who ever understood me, and possibly the only person who ever will. We used to go on shopping trips and try on fancy dresses. We would giggle when people stare at us. We didn't give a shit about what people thought of us.

"I need to get my own place," I told Angel one day.

"Can you afford it?" she asked, trying to hide the disappointment in her voice.

"Yeah, I've been saving up. I'll still come to visit."

She smiled and kissed my cheek.

"You better, chica."

But I didn't. I met this guy at the club named Karl and he introduced me to drugs. It felt good. I liked how the cold needle would slide under my veins. I loved the high I got from the smack. I didn't like the vomiting and the shaking, but those things I could live with. Then I found out I was infected with HIV. I considered giving up drugs, but I still loved the high.

It was lonely in my new apartment. Karl would come over every now and then to give me my drugs. I found out Roger lived above me and that his girlfriend had died. Apparently Karl used to deal to them. Maybe he wanted some company.

Roger was sleeping soundly next to me, letting out a soft snore every now and then. I smiled and kissed his neck softly. I sat up a little in the bed as I heard the soft sound of a baby crying. I pulled my knees to my chest and closed my eyes. The sound didn't bother me as much as it used to.