Be sure to check out my earlier post - How to Survive. I am just realizing there's a bit of a theme to my bits today.
Anyways. This one is my take on the prompt from Write on Edge's new prompt format, Write at the Merge. We get a standing 500 words and two things with which to inspire our piece. This week the two things were the song "The Past and Pending" by The Shins and the word "wish".
While coming in well under the 500 words, I'm not sure my piece needs much else. Don't get me wrong. A bit of fine tuning and editing wouldn't hurt, but I don't know that it needs huge amounts of expansion. Please let me know if I am wrong on that one. Also be sure to check out the other takes on the prompt here.
On that note - here's my piece.
I sat there, caressing the cold, matte black metal. This is what my life came down to. Looking at the hardened steel, I wondered how much blood was on my hands. More than I really wanted to admit. I know that for sure.
That train of thought led me to idle speculation about what my life could have been like. There was no question where it was going. A hard, probably brutal, death on the street was all I could look forward to. But what could it have been like? What if I would have just accepted being a hot bit to look at on some rich guy’s arm? Yeah. I’d have had to accept some damn distasteful things while I was at it. Would that life have been so bad?. But I knew I was kidding myself. I couldn’t have lived that life. I would never have been able to accept anyone walking on me. Not after what happened.
That night was why I did what I did, why I became what I am. I wasn’t going to let anyone walk on me ever again. It took a long time, a fair amount of pain and more blood than I could ever wash away, but no one has ever taken advantage of me again. They said I’d never make it in this life; that being a female in this line of work was ridiculous. Most everyone who’s had the balls to tell me that to my face aren’t saying much anymore. I’ve gone up against the best when they’ve come after me. And I’ve won.
But there’s a small part of me that wishes I could go back and undo my past; that I could take the high road instead of selling myself out.
A small noise broke into my thoughts. Soft taps of footsteps on pavement were heading my way. The time for thinking was over. I had to work.