Broken Luna

DISCLAIMER This is a work of fiction not based on any fandom, or real people. Anyone bearing a name or similarity to another person in real life or literature is coincidence.  TRIGGER WARNINGS  Broken Luna is not a light read. There are going to be a series of potentially triggering subjects brought up. The protagonist comes from a very rough background, of physical, s****l, and emotional abuse. There are mentions of drug addiction, drug overdose/death. If you are easily triggered by any of these things, this may not be the story for you.  Thanks for understanding,  Aly. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 'Cause my monsters are real, and they're trained how to kill And there's no comin' back and they just laughed at how I feel - Monsters - Shinedown ~~JUDAS~~   I hated the reflection that looked back. It was clear that I was exhausted. The bruising of bags under my eyes didn't do a single thing to help that. I was too pale. It wasn't a surprise I'd been called a damn vampire growing up.  No matter. Even if I'd had a rare night of good sleep I'd still be to damn thin. To sickly. I was not someone who mattered. That people cared for. Easily forgotten and all the easier to leave to slip through the cracks. Honestly - I didn't think I was ever even born with worth. I was brought into this world as a thing to be possessed. Used. Abused. And tossed out. In the eyes of most I wasn't good enough to be considered a living thing. Human.  My mother had never wanted me. That much was clear. Why she hadn't just given me up, I would never know. But from the start Helen - the woman whom had given birth to me - who never deserved the title mother - had expected to get something in return for keeping me, her daughter. The burden.  Really I couldn't remember how young I'd been when it had started. When mother and her pimp would barter the 'use' of me and my body to the depraved for drugs and money. To long. It had been years since I'd been stupid enough to fight against it. It always made things all the worse if I fought.  Even though Helen had died from an overdose almost four years back it hadn't freed me from that life. Like I said. I'd slipped through the cracks. Staying in the 'stable' of girls that worked for Matthias. Despite having supposed 'protection' - Johns got rough. Some paid extra to be able to be more brutal. Some girls didn't come back. I'm not sure how much longer until I'm one of those girls.  Body finally taking more abuse than the body could survive. For some reason I seemed more durable than some of the other girls. And due to that Matthias loved to make extra in setting up dates with me and the more violent, higher paying Johns.  Unfortunately for me, last night had been one of those nights. The bags under my eyes where hardly the worst part. At least that was more... natural.  My cheek was already blossoming a nasty bruise. It was angry, puffy and hot. Painful to the touch. A sensitive abrasion at the heart of it.  But if we're honest, my body was covered in them. A violent artwork created by calloused hands. My face had been rather spared. After all.To do more damage he'd have had to pay more. Doesn't matter how many times I get beat, r***d, or tortured. It doesn't hurt less. I just got better at dealing with it.  Looking over I saw the door of the small apartment opening. Raquel, one of the other girls and my roommate yawned. Shaking her head as she looked at me. "Not going to bed Jude?"  I shook my head no as I pick up some makeup brushes. I'd cleaned off my 'work face' and now was onto fixing my appearance for high school. "I don't know why you work so hard to keep in school. I never graduated. I dropped out. To get more sleep. If you're to tired to please clients you know Matthias will punish you again..." - there was a note of concern. But we couldn't exactly be called friends. Two people stuck in a rut together. Suffering hell.  Difference was I never sold Raquel out when I saw her pocketing money. Or did something I knew Matthias would disapprove of... But Raquel would sometimes slip and sell me out for some extra drugs.  I never wanted to be like my mother - so unlike Raquel - I avoided drugs best that I could. It was impossible to keep fully away from them. After all. That was one of the ways our pain got managed. And sometimes existing was to much feeling the depths of physical pain I would be forced to endure.   And as tempting as crawling into bed and sleeping the day away was - I had school. And contrary to what most might think - I loved school. Sure. The other kids never had been why I went.  Kids sucked. I'd often hear them and their barbed words. It was rare for them to get to physical at least. But I was different. And society didn't like what didn't fit neatly into a cookie cutter. But the teachers had always, for the most part, been good to me.  "I like it," I finally replied, unable to avoid the sarcasm and bitterness that seeped into my words, "I won't be able to afford anything after high school... So I'm just going to finish it... It's an escape from this beautiful life we live"   Kel (Raquel) looked perplexed. Unable to understand the idea of liking school. It was the same look she gave every thing the topic came up. "I really, really don't understand you, girl," Raquel laughed. Moving to start removing the makeup that caked her face. Revealing her own bruises. "It's not like Matthais would ever let you get a real job," it was bitter. Harsh. Instantly the other woman winced, "I'm sorry Judas... That was uncalled for. I'm just tired..."   I knew that even if she apologized - it wasn't untrue. Matthias owned me. Owned both of us. Had us  both under his thumb. To get free would take way more money than either of us could earn. No matter how hard they tried to save up. And if they tried to do something stupid and run, they'd get beaten. Or worse...  I tried to focus more on my makeup. Not the gnawing hole that lived in my chest. One full of agony, pain, sorrow... That worthless pit that hurt worse than any blow could. I was doing my best to cover the damage and make myself look a little less like an animated corpse. "I know, Kel. It's just facts. I was born a w***e, I'll die one," bitterness in my voice.  Wincing at the pain of covering the bruising over my face.  Raquel looked like she was about to say something more... Instead she finished removing her makeup in silence leaving me alone once more.   After my makeup was done I'd pulled on a hoodie and a pair of leggings. Simple clothes. It did no favors to my form. I didn't have much in the way of a chest. Despite the fact I did have a slight flaring of my hips. It wasn't dramatic. Thankfully. My body was narrow, too thin. And was so easily lost in the hoodie - and I was thankful for that. My  makeup was simple even if it had to be think to cover the bruises on my face and neck. It's purpose was to cover the damage after all. Nothing more. I left my lips a more nude colour. Not the usual crimson that was painted on at night for work. Which was most nights.  Pulling the hood up I grabbed my worn backpack and winced as it scraped over an area sensitive injuries that littered my back.  Leaving for school finally. Quiet and sure not to slam the door. No need to draw unwanted attention.  Luckily I'd escaped unscathed this time.  This time.  At least now I could escape to my lonely refuge. While I didn't really have friends - art, music, and most the teachers made school a haven. Sometimes I could even pretend I was worth something. Where sometimes I could pretend that I had a future...  We all lie to ourselves sometime, don't we?