eat, sleep, repeat

karlina veras

I am Mara. I am pretty, and I am stuck. I have nowhere to go.

My mother died of an overdose. My dad left us when I was 3 years old. I barely remember him. All I remember is a very deep angry voice shouting, “Get up you little cunt! Stop that now!” I can still hear him every time I close my eyes. He still daunts me, so I sleep with my eyes open now. It’s just about bearable. I deal with it.

I‘ve been jumping from foster home to foster home, for as long as I can remember. Not anymore though, I’m 18. I’m free, or so I thought.

All this freedom, and I couldn’t handle it. No college, no job, almost nothing. I wanted to dance, so ended up in a strip club. This is as close to home as it gets. It’s been so long now, this is all I know.

Night after night, moving my ass, attached to a pole on a stage covered in cheap lace. All drunk, all high, but it didn’t matter as long as I carried on dancing, with my tits jumping up and down. My nipples hurting but there I was, consistent.

I tried to leave a couple of times, but couldn’t do it. Couldn’t get myself out the door. I’m hooked to my own misery, so I might as well enjoy it. So I do, or at least I think I do.

My hands are shaking as I write this, my hair is thinner, my skin covered in bruises. I am alone. No one loves me but the dancing pole on that stage, who silently calls me in. I try to stay away but I can’t. So I do what it takes to keep me moving. I snort a bit, then inhale a bit, then drink. And only after that do I walk back on that stage. Feeling airy, feeling floaty… all stressed but then suddenly relaxed.

Is this heaven? Not sure, but it’s not very different from hell.

Fuck it. I don‘t give a shit. I’m stuck to the floor and can‘t move. I don’t want to either. I hear people around me.

I’m fading away. Good, finally some peace. No more repetitions. At least I’m not bored anymore.


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