Page 1 of Magic or Madness

PART ONE:

THE CHASE:

FALLON

Every day,I wake up wondering if today is the day someone will recognize me. My cover will be blown, and I’ll have to move away out of pureshame.

I didn’t ask for this, but I know I’ll be blamed. I didn’t say no either, and that’s where the lines blur between coerced and willing.

Was Iwillingto do whatever it took to help my mother? Yes.

Was Iforcedinto compromising positions? Also, yes.

My mother was an alcoholic in its ugliest form. Whenever she didn’t have a drink, her whole body would shake, and she’d vomit relentlessly.

Somedays I’d have the money, and the old man at the corner store would let me buy a bottle of vodka.

On other days, in the darker times, I’d have to beg my stepfather for help. He didn’t care that she drank herself into sickness or try to help her in any way. They fought constantly, and when he began cheating on her, the drinking became worse until she physically couldn’t live without a drink.

He didn’t love her. He was there to say he had a roof over his head. An address for the disability checks to be delivered to. That’s all she was to him.

But me? I was worth a lot more, and he took advantage. The first few times I’d ask to borrow money, he coughed it up, but with a promise that I’d repay him.

I wasfifteen. I wanted my mom to feel better, and I would’ve promised the devil himself that I’d pay him back if that meant I could buy her a 30-pack of beer or a bottle of vodka. Anything to keep the sickness away for twenty-four hours.

What I didn’t realize, was that he intended to collect his debt, and my body was my only valuable asset.

The first few times, I stayed fully clothed, maybe showing off a hint of cleavage, but his curiosity grew, and my bills were hefty.

By the time I ran away at nineteen,three daysafter putting my mother in the ground, there were nearly two thousand images of me on the internet.

He spent his days organizing my photos, giving the perverts of the world a catalog of images to choose from, depending on their pleasure. He was rolling in cash, profiting off my desperation, and relishing in the fact that we were his lifeline.

Once she died, I knew it was only a matter of time until he took more drastic measures, whether it be selling me directly for sex or pawning me off to someone else – my days were numbered. Lord knows the connections he made with the perverts who enjoyed my photos, and I was accustomed to fearing the worst.

Four years.That’s how long I tried to keep her alive. I did everything in my power to keep the liquor flowing, and it came crashing down in one fell swoop.

Three hours.That’s how long it took me to realize she’d choked on her own vomit. I was running errands, buying the day's fix, and by the time I came home – she wasgone.

Just like that, I was no longer confined to the daunting task of being her savior. I was free, but I hated myself for what I let happen to me in the name of saving her. I was disgusted with myself when the relief washed over me – when I finally knew I didn’t have to get naked and sell my body to help her. I compromised my morals, future, and mental health for years, but she was mymom.

I couldn’t let her die.

I made my choice, and it was time to escape.

So, I said my goodbyes to Mom, promising her I’d make something of my life, and ran for the fucking hills. I had no idea where I was going or what I’d do once I got there, but I knew one thing:how to survive.

It’s been one year, four months, and fourteen days, and I’m still alive.

I’m still fighting,but I’m still looking over my shoulder, praying he doesn’t find me and that nobody recognizes me.

I don’t have much, but I don’t live with a predator anymore. I have a few friends, a guy who thinks he might love me, and a place to call home. I made a life here in a quiet place where I could rebuild myself.

Instead of laying in bed, staring at the ceiling, dwelling on the things I cannot change, I choose to get dressed and join my roommates for brunch.

I’m working on my makeup when my phone rings.

“Hey, pretty lady.” I wince at the bland pet name given to me by Bryce, my boyfriend.

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