Simlog #24, recorded by Babsie, Laid Dirty
She’s waking up, her hands cuffed. This time she is feeling the cold steel of real cuffs on her hands. She is lying in the backseat of a patrol car, her bag nowhere she can see it. Her muscles are shaking, the cramp of volts that only slowly release their painful grip on her muscles. Her stomach is hurting. Like she was hit there with a club. The sour feeling of puke in her mouth and her eyes twitch from the scent of her own pepper punch that the wind had carried back to her.
She carefully opens her eyes and the point of perception jumps around. Doorknobs closed. A transparent ballisto-glass between the backseat and the driver, with a lockable window in the middle. Where the cops can fire a taser through or pepper punch. She is looking for her bag, but they put it somewhere else.
Snot is running down her nose, but she tries to lie still. The her eyes are looking for something that she can identify up in the sky, looking through the windows. Then she pops up the menu of her commlink which must be somewhere in range. “NO CONNECTION” is blinking. “Shit, no upload”, she whispers. The GPS is not working.
One of the cops turns around. “Think she gained consciousness.” But they don’t care. The car turns into some dark alley, some kind of backyard. It stops with squeaking breaks. They get out of the car, the door to her head opens and hands grab her and pull her rudely out. She is fighting to get to her feet, the two pull her between them to a steel fire-door. A corridor, it’s smelling like piss. “Where do you take me?” But her voice sounds weak and the reverb is coming down from the corridor. “Shut your gob.” “This is not the police station, is it?” She feels a pain in her side and she gasps and fights for breath. A flight of stairs, a door. Yellow tape. They break it and pull her hin. “Hey!”, she protests. “That’s illegal!” This time the panic in her voice is getting up. “What do you plan?” She cop that she can identify as Rico shuts the door behind her. It’s getting still. They push her forward. A white chalk line of a dead person in on the floor. A dark spot. “Fuck!” They turn into a room with a bed.
They shove her onto it, she stumbles, falls and her face hits the stinking mattress. The walls are cracked, the wallpaper torn down by age and by wetness of the wall. Syringes on the floor. A small table and a couple of chairs. “What’s up? If you need money, I can pay you off!” The panic in her voice is getting up her pitch to a squeak. “Fuck! What’s up?”
Rico is standing at the side of the bed, Sonny opens her bag and tosses the stuff inside on the table. “Let’s see”, in a calm voice. “A commlink. Expensive. Where did you pinch that?” She is struggling against the cuffs. It hurts badly. “Not pinched! It’s mine!” “A little streetwalker running a link like that?” He laughs. “Fucking Syringes. No drugs. Frisk her.” “I don’t put my fingers into her pockets.” “Get her jacket, damn, Rico.”
“I will open the cuffs, if I were you I wouldn’t dare to move.” He snaps open the cuffs and she just quivers. He pulls down her jacket. Sonny opens the pockets and tosses the stuff inside on the table. “Check her boots.” Rico checks it. “Switchblade knife. Isn’t that illegal.” “If she has a registration for that, it’s okay.” They both laugh. “Pocket knife, lot’s of small stuff. Cosmetics. Pepper punch. We already confiscated your weapon. This pistol.” “It’s legal”, she protests. “I need it for self defense.” Rico cuffs her hands to the head of the bed with the cuff. “What’s going on? Please? What do you want?” “Check her pants.” She struggles, but Rico removes the boots then her pants, putting his knee on her chest, so she can’t move.
“Hey!”, she screams. “If you scream, we hit you until you stop.” She stops screaming, shaking even more. “I know, I know! I didn’t pay your retirement this month! But I’m not streetwalking anymore!”, she protests. “Please!”, she begs. Her naked legs on the dirty mattress, just wearing a slip and her socks. “If you just want to fuck me…” She swallows. “If you just want to fuck me, I do. I do what you want. Please. Just don’t hurt me, okay?” She starts to cry.
“No drugs here either”, Sonny announces. “No, little fey. Babsie is your name isn’t it? We won’t fuck you. It’s just the thing you want, don’t you?” “No, but…” He starts yelling: “Shut the fuck up! You talk when I ask you a question, do you understand? You sing like a bird. But now you shut up and listen. Hold her tight, Rico.” He starts to press his knee on her. She is too frightened to fight it. “No!”, she cries and sobs. “Just do it that I get over it, okay?”
“You have no drugs. You are clean? Since when?” Rico rips her shirt open. “Answer!” “I’m clean! I’m clean! I don’t do drugs anymore! Twenty days or so! I’m clean!” “Good. Then I know what you really are afraid off, little girl.” And the voice is low and menacing. “Hold her fast, Rico.” She struggles. “You know what this is?” And he holds up some patches. “No! No!”, now she starts fighting but she didn’t stand a chance. “No! Please! Please! Don’t! Don’t! I’m, I’m just clean! Nooo!” Rico holds down her arm, she tries to bite him, struggles with her legs, but Rico just puts his full weight on her, pulls at her body, so that her wrists start to hurt like fire. “Nooo!”, she screams, struggles and Sonny pulls slowly the sleeve of her right arm down, until the naked inside of her arm is shining white and vulnerable against the dirty mattress.
“Another junkie that did an overdose in an abandoned flat. What do you think, Rico?” “Sounds like something nobody would care off.” “Especially if she is clean since so short time This happens all the time.” The cold alcohol is dripping on her arm. She had stopped screaming, just crying, fighting, “No! No! No!”, but she is fighting against all odds. “Don’t do it! Please don’t do it!”
Sonny cleans the skin with a medic cotton. He holds up the patch. “Ever tried bliss, girl? But really, you would destroy yourself with this. So many dead on the street.” “Noooo!” Her body moves upwards, her muscles hurt and she can feel the stress, tries to turn, but it doesn’t help anything. He rips off the protection from the slap patch. “Just breath in, will you?”
“Noo! Please! Please! Pleaaaase! Don’t! Don’t! Just don’t! I do anything! I do anything what you want! Tell me! What do you want me to do! I do it! I do it! I do it!” “Rico, could you please…?” He puts a hand on her mouth. “Please! I do everything!” She struggles a last time, the patch touches her skin, “Nooooo!”
They let her go. She sobs, cries, shakes, fights. “Nooo! Take it off me! Take it off! Please! Please!” They stand there, watch her. “That was fun”, Sonny says. “That’s a lesson, I guess”, Rico admits. “Do you have a smoke?” Sonny shakes his head. The vision is blurred by her tears. He still has the patch in his hand, puts it down on his own crook of the arm, directly over the veins. “I quit it. I just try these nic-plasters to get over the first week, you know? It’s such a bad habit.”
Babsie just sobs and cries. She doesn’t understand. “Take it off. Please. Please. I do anything. Anything!” The cops smile. “Girl. You don’t have any shit on your arm. Who do you think we are? We are the good guys. We are the good guys, Rico, or not?” Rico is swaying his head. “Depends on who you ask, Sonny.” They laugh. “We give you some time, girl.”
They take chairs, sit and watch her. She is just crying, sobbing, “I do anything you want. I do anything.” But she has stopped fighting, her voice sounds husky from crying. She has rolled herself together. “I have seen some cigarettes and a bottle water to drink in her stuff. I guess it would be nice to offer her some”, Sonny suggests. “Girl. Calm down. You are safe. We won’t fix a girl like you to death, just like this. Would we, Rico?” Rico shakes his head. “No. We are the law. We have only the best interests for you, little fey. But you have sexy legs.” “Stop that, Rico. I think she had enough. Do you? You cooperate?”
She just sobs, “I do anything you want.” “Fine. I call that cooperation. What do you think?” “I think she wants sex.” “No. I think she is not in the mood for that. It would be illegal anyway, wouldn’t it?” “I’m eighteen”, but it is nothing more than a reflex. The cops smile. Sonny gives her the bottle to drink, then Rico unlocks the cuffs. She is shaking, sitting on the edge of the bed. She is not caring about her nakedness. She just tries to get one of the nic-sticks from her Marlboro but her hand shakes that much that a couple of them fall to the dirty floor. She isn’t able to hold her hand steady enough to let Sonny give her fire, so he holds her wrists, which drives a shock through her body. But she isn’t able to fight it and let it happen. “Anything”, she says and sucks the smoke greedy into her lungs, holds it for a while.
“Non electric cigarettes in public are against the law”, Rico says. “Bad for public health.” “Can it, Rico. So, girl, let’s talk”, he suggests after she had calmed a bit down by the nic.