Little Girl Lost: Volume 1 of the Little Girl Lost Trilogy. Cindy Hanna

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Название Little Girl Lost: Volume 1 of the Little Girl Lost Trilogy
Автор произведения Cindy Hanna
Жанр Советская литература
Серия Little Girl Lost
Издательство Советская литература
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781926585741



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“I’m missing something...something very important.

      Concentrate. Concentrate! I have to try to remember. My dreams are never wrong. There’s no room for mistakes. That’s it!” She states this somewhat loudly, startling herself. “That’s got to be it! It has something to do with mistakes. No. Not mistakes, but a mistake...a very important one!”

      Sally lies down, exhausted. The dream is gone. She knows it is useless to try to rack her brain. Detecting the beginnings of a headache, the jackhammer pounding at her temple, she closes her eyes in an attempt to dull the pain and seeks comfort from her crack pipe. Inhaling deeply, she feels its euphoric sensation wash over her. Sally scratches without mercy at her skin.

       Goddamn bugs! Why can’t I get them off of me?

      She looks down at her arm, where she has been scratching. There are no bugs. She scratches harder in hopes of release from the sensation and takes another drag from her pipe. She is rewarded with a blissful bug-free feeling for a few minutes. When it subsides, the insect-ridden-skin feeling returns. Unaware that she has drawn blood, Sally resumes scratching.

       Can’t believe I left that damn piece of paper behind with Mama Pearl’s name and the club’s address on it. Ax is gonna find it.

      Sally gets out of bed and walks over to where her friend slumbers and shakes her. “Angel. Angel! You’ve got to wake up. We’re not safe here.” Sally takes another drag from her crack pipe.

      Angel awakes, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She takes note of Sally and the pipe. “Hey. It’s okay. No one’s gonna hurt us here.”

      Sally says, “But I saw him!”

      “Who?”

      “Ax. He was here. He found us.”

      Angel gets up and puts her arm around her friend. “Look at us.

      We’re fine. It’s just the crack playing tricks with your mind.”

      Sally pulls away. “No! I had one of my dreams.”

      Angel freezes, and the color drains from her face. “One of your dreams? Oh, my God! Ax is gonna find us!”

      “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. We’re not safe here.”

      Angel sits on the bed, pulling Sally down with her. Placing her hands on her friend’s shoulders, she turns so each of them is facing one another. “What exactly did you see in your dream?”

      “We’ve got until Ax finds that note.”

      “What note?”

      “The one we left behind with Mama Pearl’s name and the club’s address on it. The one Misty wrote.”

      “There’s no note,” Angel says. “Misty didn’t write down the information. She told it to us so there wouldn’t be any record for Ax to find.” A look of dawning understanding crosses Angel’s face and she continues, “Come on, let’s get you something to eat.”

      Stamping her foot, Sally’s voice rings with the defiance of a small child. “I’m not hungry!”

      “Then why don’t you put down the pipe and take a break.”

      “Okay.”

      Putting the pipe away, Angel states, “I think that’s enough for tonight.”

      Sally scratches mercilessly at her skin. “I can’t get these damn bugs off me.”

      “I know. Let’s get you a shower. That’ll wash ‘em off.”

      “Promise?”

      “Yeah.”

      Angel showers Sally and tucks her into bed.

      “I’m so tired. I can barely keep my eyes open.”

      “Me too.” Angel looks at the clock on the nightstand. “It’s the middle of the night. Let’s go back to bed. We’ll wake up feeling better in the morning.”

      “Sounds nice. Stay with me? I don’t want to be alone.”

      Angel lies down beside her friend and hugs her close. “I’ll be right here. I won’t leave your side.”

      Sally relaxes in the safety of Angel’s embrace and repeats her words while drifting off to sleep, “Won’t leave your....” She smiles and lets out a heavy sigh. “Hmm. That was the last thing I told my brother before we crashed over the wave.” She falls into a deep sleep.

      Tears stream down Angel’s face.

       Oh, Sally girl. Wish you could see what this shit’s doing to you. Wish I could save you. I’d give anything if I could, but I can’t. All I can do is stay by your side.

      The following morning, Sally goes to Angel and puts a hand on her friend’s shoulder. “Thanks for last night. Never been that bad before. Don’t know what happened.”

      “It’s okay. Stay away from that shit when you’re scared or upset.

      That’s when you binge and not even I can reach you.”

      “Sorry.”

      “Promise that you’ll reach out to me before your crack pipe.”

      “Deal.”

      The girls pack bags with outfits they can strip in (tight mini skirts that leave nothing to the imagination, clingy low-cut tops that expose their chests, five-inch stiletto come-fuck-me heels, lacy bras and g-strings) and leave them on their beds. They dress in jeans, T-shirts, comfortable shoes and then head out to explore Las Vegas.

      They are twenty-five, the year is 1994 and Las Vegas is undergoing a major facelift with amazing themed hotel/casinos replacing the old Mafia-owned ones. Never having been to Vegas, the girls stroll the strip awestruck. Sally is dazzled, even in the daylight, by all the neon lights. “Look, Angel. There’s the Flamingo with its fanned-out neon tail feathers over the entrance.”

      They cross the street and continue up the other side where they come upon the sprawling Caesar’s property. Having heard about the Forum Shops below and what treasures they contain, the girls choke their way through the smog-like cloud of smoke, which hangs from the ceiling of the hotel’s main casino like a cancer cloud. The girls are hypnotized by the noise and chaos created by the ding, ding, dinging and flashing lights of the slot machines. Stopping in front of the nearest one-arm bandit, Angel comments, “Look, it’s just like the ones in the movies.”

      Angel reaches into her purse and draws out a couple of quarters. Placing them in the coin slot, she looks at Sally and winks before pulling the handle. Both girls watch with mounting anticipation, as first one BAR, then another and finally a third fall into a horizontal line in the center of the display. A light on top of the machine begins to flash. Alarms blare. And the unmistakable tink, tink, plunk, plunk, tink, tink, tink sounds as the machine belches out its coins. Sally looks for something to place the coins in and locates a large plastic coin cup. She hands it to Angel, who begins scooping up her winnings as the slot machine continues to spew out an endless cache of quarters. Both girls beam.

      “This is awesome!” Angel announces with childlike abandon. “Las Vegas is fun. I like it here!” She looks at Sally. “Go ahead, you try.”

      Sally fetches a couple quarters from her purse and places them in the machine next to the one Angel has just emptied. She pulls the handle and waits—BAR, double cherries and an orange. She laughs, “Well, at least I got healthy fruits.”

      “You and your damn healthy eating,” Angel says. “I’ve never seen anyone so into fruits and vegetables before.”

      Sally shrugs. “What