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Shit, it’s almost time to go back and get her now… but I’m really too tired to keep going. Fuck! She should be all beat to Hell by now too, after four days without food or water or sleep.But she won’t stop, can’t stop…Narcisa has completely lost all control now…When I went to pick her up earlier this afternoon after her 2nd or 3rd trip to the crack spot today, she told me that even one of the local bandidos who run the drugs up there had told her she was looking like shit.Hello.

Santa, originally uploaded by Scab Vendor.

“So you’re really hooked on it bad now, huh?” He said as he took her money and handed her a little bag of the deadly rock.She nodded.”I see you up here every few hours, girl,” he said.. “What’s up? You can’t stop?”She’d just shook her head shyly in defeat.The bandido just laughed.”Of course you can stop,” he said. “I used to be all hooked on this shit too, and I quit.. Now I’ve got this little job selling it and I’m making money, doing pretty good now. You just need to go out to run on the beach first thing in the morning, like I did. And then, if you ask God to help you quit, you can put the shit down…. If I could do it, you can too.”She’d actually seemed pretty impressed with that.Sure.Here’s a little dead-end thug, selling crack up in the favela, armed with a machine gun and home-made hand grenades, just another nameless teenage soldier in the vast underworld drug army… and even HE’S telling her she should quit now….Not only that, but now she’s telling it all to me too, the very trick who’s stood right by her through it all! Right up to the point where I went from being her friend to being her full-time trick, to being a real friend to a friend in need.Then I went from being her friend to being her lover to her full time sugar-daddy boyfriend now.Even I, her closest accomplice many years clean off of drugs, am always trying to encourage her to quit…Suddenly she’s just found herself surrounded by all these irritating little reminders that its finally time to do something about her problem…Even some of her old crack buddies, denizens of the notorious Casa Verde, have finally thrown in the towel and gone crawling off to the Narcotics Anonymous meetings and quit…And still Narcisa just keeps muddling along.Sometimes I think she’d really rather die than have to give up any of her poisonous old ways and ideas.When she told me what the bandido had said, I just looked at her sadly.”God has been talking to you about this shit for a long long time now, baby,” I said. “And God will use anybody to get a message to you - even the ones who pay for it now, even the ones who fucking SELL it to you. Don’t ya see? That’s God trying to get through to you… but you just don’t wanna listen…  I just hope you’ll wanna get out of this mess someday. I don’t know how and I don’t know when… and I know I can’t even tell ya the way out, cuz it wouldn’t mean shit… But I never give up hope for you… That you can make it. Shit. If I could, you can too. And that bandido just told ya the same fucking thing…”

She didn’t say anything but I could tell she was listening to me, and she even gave me an appreciative little squeeze there on the back of the bike that just made me want to cry.But I’ve already cried so so many tears for Narcisa over the years that now I hardly even cry at all anymore lately.I cried for so long and so hard for her, all while I was writing the book about her, the whole time she was tucked away in that ridiculous evangelical rehab.Finally, I guess I just ran dry. And now I got no more tears to cry anymore.Not for Narcisa. Not for anybody.Not today.At this point, I just pray for the little victories.Now I just pray to be able to get some sleep tonight.Sleep… So I can make it through yet another long, agonizing fucking day with Narcisa.Copyright Jonathan Shaw 2008. All Rights Reserved.
NOTIFIÇAO: Os eventos relatados neste site são contos de ficção - registrados na Biblioteca Nacional como ficção com todos os direitos autorais revertidos ao autor, Jonathan Shaw. Os personagens mencionados são interamente ficticios. Certos eventos, personagens, lugares e relatos foram baseados em fatos reais, porém qualquer semelhança a qualquer pessoa viva ou morta se trata de pura coincidência.
As vários fotografias apresentadas se encontram com o rosto distorcido para preservar o anonimato das modelos que representam personagens fictícios.