It seems that some of you are a little curious to know what I look like, well forgive me for not posting a picture or describing myself but that last thing I need is any of you coming up to me in the street and receiving a mouthful of your judgmental bullshit, tell me does it make you feel better to judge others and give an opinion on something that has absolutely nothing to do with you? I mean Christ, you don’t know me so what the hell makes you think you have the right to say anything to me? Are your own lives really that boring? Do you have to spend every second of your life judging others and sticking your noses into business that’s not yours?  

                There actually isn’t much in this world that annoys me, i can deal with shitty weather or the bus turning up late but the one thing that will piss me off is human nature, well actually it’s not even nature, it’s this disgusting trait that we all seem to have developed where we think our opinion matters or that we should have an opinion on things outside of our own lives. If what am doing directly affects you then by all means throw in your two cents and kick up a fuss but if it doesn’t then get a life or a cat, just something to brighten up your boring lives!

                Okay rant over. So what’s been going on in my life recently? Same old bullshit. Seriously G needs to take down Monroe already because this is getting very old, very fast. I’m done with being his little bitch, the whore that sucks his cock for the sake of saving my ass from jail. Christ at least if was in jail the only cock I’d be sucking would be the guards, you think that doesn’t happen? Open your eyes sweetheart. The world is a lot darker then you could ever imagine. No one is innocent anymore and everyone is only ever out for themselves, at least in your world I’m honest; am evil, am a bitch and most of the time I’m playing you without you ever realising it. I’m arrogant but you know what? I’ve earned it. You can’t become this good at your chosen job and then be modest, that’s just fucking stupid, a massive waste of achievement. I can earn more money in one night then you will earn in a year and doesn’t that just make you sick? A dishonest job, if done well can set you up comfortably for life. I could retire tomorrow if really wanted to, could buy my own fucking island and live on champagne until die but where’s the fun in that? Where’s the excitement? Where’s the thrill? And ultimately that is why still risk my life every single day to be the cunt truly am. I wouldn’t change my life for the world.

                Sometimes thinks would be easier if had quit the game a long time ago, if had concentrated on being a good wife or mother or whatever the fuck it is that you normal people do.  If had chose a different path then maybe wouldn’t be whoring myself out to dickheads like Monroe. Maybe wouldn’t wake up wondering if today was the day was going to die. Maybe I’d be just another face in the crowd. Living a life of obscurity, unnoticed and insignificant? Christ just bored myself thinking about it. I worked hard to get the level of respect and fear that makes my life successful. When you have that look that stops people in their tracks, when they aren’t sure what it is that they’ve done but it must have been bad. When they grovel and beg for their life without you even saying a word, you know you’ve succeeded. I have made grown men cry and piss themselves with fear at the thought of what could do to them. It’s a power trip, one that nothing else can compare to.

                Carlos has little power trips, when he meets some spotty teenage drug dealer that maybe was too stoned to pay his debt. He gets all high and mighty and pretty twisted. Take last night for example; got sent out by Monroe to collect some late payments, now usually could do this on my own with ease however Monroe had grown bored of his new pet licking his arsehole clean that he sent him with me. Carlos being the idiot that he is decided this was his chance to shine, to prove himself. He picked the weakest of the dealers and dragged him off to the woods, pretty original, huh? Well then he tied him to a tree and tortured him, it was the longest most boring three hours of my life. And yet not once did this poor boy cry or piss himself. Eventually got fed up, Carlos wasn’t getting anywhere. I shoved him out the way and stood in front of him. I stared for a moment then glanced down as his jeans darkened and his shoes squelched. I made Carlos retrieve a key to a locker at the station, mostly because it was in his now wet pocket. Job done, the boy was released. I watched him run and then heard a gun go off. I looked down at my hand and it wasn’t me. I looked at Carlos and shook my head. The stupid fucking dick. I punched him and knocked him to the ground, gave him a mouthful of abuse then drove off and left him to clean up his dirty work.

                My advice to any would be criminal? Don’t even bother. Unless you want to fight dirty and still end up dead. It’s not worth it. Very few people are smart enough to make it and I’ll be honest i very much doubt any of you are. 

In a game where the rules are always changing you need to be constantly adapting, changing your view or tactics in order to win. Most people lose because they are rigid, not willing to be flexible and so the goal becomes unobtainable and they blame everyone else. If you want to make it in my world then you had better pray to God that I can’t predict your behavior because if I can and by the way I will then you’ll be dead before I even say a word.

                There was time, once that I pretended I was something I’m not. I became everything I had previous despised and whereas normally I would have something to gain from any given situation; I gained nothing but heartache and pain. It was a lesson I intend never to have to learn again. I suppose I got swept up in the moment or something and then before I could do anything to stop it things spiralled out of control. I’d gotten too deep and walking away wasn’t an option. Certain people saw a different side of me and one of those was Montana, I guess that’s why he looks at me that way sometimes, like he knows who I really am. And sometimes that look makes me want to gouge his eyes out with a spoon. Don’t get me wrong, I need him in my life but it just pisses me off how he seems to know me so well without me ever having shown him more then I show anyone else.

                I met Montana years ago; I may have already mentioned that. He was working undercover and Monroe was too thick to realise. Montana had been working with Monroe for a few weeks before I actually saw him and I swear to god I almost fucked him right then and there. Montana is beautiful, I know that’s more a feminine descriptive word but it’s the only one that could do him justice. Montana’s family were Mexican so he had their colouring, their dark chocolate eyes and long black hair. Years of working in the Special Forces meant his body was certainly something to behold. He was a little older than me and sometimes if he was stressed and hadn’t been sleeping it would show in the fine lines around his eyes. Montana now worked on and off for the filth, mostly he did his own thing and helped when he had to or it benefited him. I always said he was the male version of me, except he was allowed to do the things he did, or even if he wasn’t sometimes his superiors would just turn a blind eye. Montana has done some terrible things and I suppose the difference between us is that he feels guilt and I don’t.

                It was probably about three hours after meeting properly; I mean like two years after he sorted my little problem out that we started a hot steamy affair. I was still with Monroe and it wasn’t the best time of my life to be honest. I didn’t love him anymore and was only with him because I had to be for reasons its best you don’t know. Montana was everything a girl could want; sexy, rough around the edges but soft inside and shit hot in bed. To be honest I didn’t really care about the rough edges or the soft centre, mostly I just cared about his cock and then stupid emotions got involved and he fell in love. Then shit happened, bad shit in fact the worst kind of shit you could ever imagine. Monroe and I split up, that wasn’t the shit by the way and then Montana and I were free to have a proper relationship only things don’t ever turn out the way you want them too. It would have been pretty handy for me to be involved with him; he would have been able to help me with my work, without ever really knowing that was what he was doing. Only I couldn’t commit and after a year of ups and downs it was time to call it a day. There was never any real bad feeling and so every now and then our paths would cross and he would end up in my bed.

                Recently he seems to ending up in my bed a lot more than usual, I get a feeling he’s trying to keep an eye on me. It worried him that I was trying to set up Monroe because he knew exactly what Monroe was capable of and I guess he didn’t want to see me end up like all those others; tortured to death agonisingly slowly. If I’m honest, I don’t really feel much like ending up that way either. I would kill myself before I ever let Monroe or anyone kill me. In my choice of lifestyle getting killed in shower of police or gang bullets is a reality and luckily I’m pretty good at playing people and so most believe they need me for some reason or another. Monroe didn’t need me, I mean killing me would make certain things little awkward but not so awkward that I warranted being alive. It wouldn’t be long before he realised either what I was up to or that he actually didn’t need me and when that moment comes, I’m not going down without a fight.

                G seemed happy that things were back on track, I have to admit that I wasn’t. It meant that I had to go back to being Monroe’s little bitch. To do everything he asked without saying a word and to suck his cock on demand. I know that maybe some of you get excited thinking about my lifestyle but the grass isn’t always greener on the other side; I mean hell I know my life can be fucking amazing but when its bad, its life threatening. When your life gets tough you will probably survive, I could get murdered. It’s a cold reality to the criminal world that I emerge myself in but I wouldn’t want it any other way. Everyday I wake up and I don’t have to answer to anyone, well except for my current situation but that isn’t normal. I am my own boss and I get the respect I deserve. Now before you all go thinking getting into the criminal world sounds fun and lucrative, think again. Mostly I don’t think a lot of you could deal with your conscience and if you can then I very much doubt your smart enough to not get caught. You might get into my world but you would never make it out alive. So how am I still alive? Well darlin that’s my dirty little secret…

             Some things in life are beyond your control, hell some things are even beyond mine and let’s face it I have far more control over my life then you would ever dream of having in yours. My life may appear crazy and obscenely unpredictable to the untrained eye but it isn’t, almost nothing comes as a surprise to me even if I may let it appear to for the sake of my cause. Everything is calculated and recalculated to ensure I get the best possible outcome from my choice of action or reaction. Have I ever made a mistake so huge that it would take the rest of my life to get over it? Yeah, and it was then that I learnt exactly what in this world could cripple me within seconds, the one thing that could bring me to the brink of sanity, where all my actions are not thought through, where control goes out the window and I function on raw human emotion. That one tiny little thing that seemed like such a good idea once, that one tiny little thing that will break your heart far worse than any lover ever could and that one tiny little thing that I will spend the rest of my life in fear for.

             The smarter of you will know what I’m talking about, well done, would you like a fucking medal? And to those of you that haven’t got a clue what the fuck I’m harping on about, well I hope you never do. I have no intention of putting to print exactly what my mistake was because in all honesty it would take too long to explain and some things in life should be kept private. I know I sound like a dick with all this secrecy bullshit, mentioning things but not fully explaining and then top it all off, bitching and moaning that I have to write it down but you must understand that my days are numbered and like I’ve said before the world deserves to know my name and my achievements, so to speak.

             Today I had a meeting with G and I think he’s warming to me. If you ignore the cold stare and monotone words, I’m sure deep down he loves me. I probably don’t make matters better by pushing his buttons and seeing just how close to the edge he really was. By my calculations he was one stale donut away from eating a bullet and I have a feeling that if I make it through this alive, then I will be the one handing him that donut. Anyway I’ve lost my point…so G is not impressed by my lack of information in the past few weeks. To be honest crime has been pretty much pushed to the back burner for awhile. I neglected to tell him exactly what was going on and merely acted like the streets were just quiet at the moment, which in all honesty is true. Myself and Monroe haven’t done any jobs together or individually but that didn’t mean things weren’t in motion. G seemed to think that I was hiding something from him, that perhaps I was actually enjoying my time with the devil and that it got my heart racing and made my special place tingle; yes I did smile when he said those words to me which also probably didn’t help matters what with leaving and not actually answering him. Well I wouldn’t want to ruin his fantasy, would I?

            I could break G within moments; I could give him everything he had ever dreamed of and more only to take it away as quickly as he came. I could make his world seem far more alive and thrilling with just a few little words and then watch the fire burn his soul and destroy him from the inside. Pretty hardcore and egotistical you may think but you know how you feel when you think you’ve met the one? That excitement? That buzz that engulfs you whole and consumes your meaningless little lives, bit by bit until you can no longer function like a normal human being? Well imagine that feeling that you call ‘love’ intensified to such a force that you physically ache for what the person brought into your life within seconds of meeting them or of seeing whatever it was that made you realise your love. That is exactly what I do to men like him, men with rules and order to their lives, with jobs that depend on them and people that rely on them. Men that got so lost in the moment years ago that until they met the fire they didn’t even realise the moment had gone and they were left with unsatisfying shell of their former selves without ever really knowing how or when it happened. Suddenly life looses meaning and the spark fades from their eyes, they get grumpy and stressed, midlife crisis’s come and go but feeling never truly leaves. So hate me if you really want but at least acknowledge that even if only for a moment, I put the fire back in their heart and I make their lives worth living again, well until I grow bored of them or they have served their purpose and this game hasn’t even started yet. All games have rules you have to follow, so how do you ensure you always win the game? You bend your rules to suit your goal; don’t act like you’ve never done it. No-one is that innocent. Hell, God was the biggest rule bender around, he created the damn things.

            Come in, sit down and tell me about your week. Was it exciting? Did you finally get the acknowledgment from your boss that you’ve been trying to get for the past twenty years? Are you counting down the days till the weekend? You know what, don’t answer that. I don’t really care. Your lives bore me, all the trials and tribulations you create for yourselves, all the problems you create in order to feel that excitement that you then vigorously deny and act like your stressed and you can’t cope. Stop your crying; you did it to yourself so be an adult and deal with it. Today I’m consumed with hatred, I’d tell you why but that would give you a glimpse of a side of me that I would much rather keep hidden. Let’s just say that if God existed once, well surely he doesn’t anymore. What God would punish the innocent and allow the sinned to carry on. I am evil, I have done things that would make a priest weep and where’s my punishment? Where’s my pain? My pain right now exists because I can’t deal with the world in which God abandoned. Christ, I sound like a religious nut. I’m not, I don’t even believe in God but today I’m being one of those people that I can’t stand; I’m blaming a God I don’t believe in because of something I don’t understand. Don’t worry; my hypocrisy is all too obvious to me.

            Just when everything is working out something always goes wrong. The job went fine, no hiccups and no drama. Everyone was in high spirits, well mostly everyone was high. The party went on for days and when the bender finally calmed down; the shit hit the fan and covered us all. Monroe had taken the call and I knew as soon as he looked over at me that something bad was going down. The call was quick and so was the beating. What had I done to deserve three broken ribs, two black eyes and concussion? Nothing, well nothing that he knew about anyway. The beating was because he had to blame someone, he had to take his anger out and unfortunately as I had ties to this current problem, I got to be his punch bag. So laying on the floor in a broken heap was where I finally got to hear the words I’d been dreading. Did he really think it didn’t hurt me as much as it hurt him? I mean Christ a beating I can take but those words cut through my heart and left a wound so deep that it will never heal. All this may not make sense to you but the less you know about it the better. Three people in the world know about it and that is how it has to stay. Forgive my vagueness but for once in my life this isn’t about me and it isn’t for you to know

            I very rarely loose control over my emotions, emotions will get you killed and I didn’t want to die. But the last few days have been spent in oblivion of alcohol to numb my broken heart, to make me forget everything. I’d been keeping as far away from Monroe as I could, I didn’t really care what this meant for the deal with G and to be honest it’s not like it was getting anywhere. Last night, I followed the same routine of going to the bar, getting as wasted as I could and then getting into a fight. I would have won the fight last night had Montana not stepped in and dragged me away from him. Montana never looses his cool, he never shows you what he’s thinking and he will never act without thinking it through but when it came to me, he all looses all his senses. So when he shouted at me for being a fucking idiot it was surprising for those who witnessed it. Very few people had ever seen Montana worked up in such a way that he shook with anger. Apparently he’d been working away for the last few weeks and having just got back in town; he learnt of my deal with G and he was not best pleased. I knew he’d be upset about it and I knew I’d be able to still keep him sweet but I wasn’t thinking clearly and so I did what no-one would ever dare to do; I hit him. I was then promptly dragged outside and pinned to the wall by a very angry Montana.

            Montana would never hurt me; he would scare me but never follow through with the threat. So I wasn’t exactly in fear of my life but he was still a force not to be reckoned with. I’d stared him coldly in the eyes and watched as he held me by the neck but didn’t make a sound. He just stared back, taking all of me in and trying to figure what the fuck was going on. It took just a few seconds for his face to soften and for him to realise what was wrong. He let me go then pulled me into him and held me close, probably fearing that I’d hit him again if he let me go. I’m ashamed to admit that I cried, I sobbed into his chest like an emotional fucking wreck. I couldn’t help myself, everything had gotten too much and my world didn’t seem like a good place to live in. Montana had a horrible knack of being able to make me show him my most vulnerable side and of making everything better, even if just for a moment.

            I’ll admit that getting into a fight with broken ribs is not the best idea, mostly because the next morning you’d just about be able to get out of bed. Luckily I had Montana to help me out this morning. We talked and he tried his best to make sense of it all, to justify it but even he was at a loss as to explain how something so cruel could happen to someone so innocent. It wasn’t even about me, not like I was getting my punishment for a crime I had willingly committed and yet it felt like someone else was paying the price for my sins. Guilt is a very nasty feeling, one I admit I don’t tend to feel and so when suddenly my body is consumed with this sickening sense; I find it very difficult to handle. So now I guess you’ve seen a different side of me, a softer side maybe and perhaps your opinion of me has shifted slightly. Now maybe I seem more human, more fragile and maybe a little more like you. Well here’s a friendly warning, don’t ever underestimate me. I am not this person that you may think I am, whether it is good or bad. Everything that you think I am, all that you think I’m capable of; is just the tip of the iceberg. I am a criminal, I have very few morals and I have killed, don’t you ever forget that. 

             Last night I had a dream; a little girl was playing on some swings, she was so innocent and naïve. It was a beautiful sight to behold but then the world sucked her in and drained the innocence that made her childhood so sweet. Everything she thought she believed, everything she thought she was got taken away and was replaced by the harsh reality of a world without God; the devils playground. The sweet little girl turned into a crack whore and who do I see standing before her? Who was the one that caused her downfall? Me. Luckily I woke up and to be honest it was just a dream. If I’m to be held accountable for everyone else’s sins then fuck me I might as well be dead. If some little crack whore came to me wanting a little cash on the side in exchange for a bit of work, am I meant to say no that little money maker? I didn’t put the drugs in her hand, I didn’t tell her to sell her body and I’m not gonna give her a second thought let alone allow her to mark my conscience. People make their own decisions and the sooner they accept responsibility the better.

             I’m not a people person; you might have guessed that already. It’s not so much that I don’t like people; I just can’t stand this blame culture we’ve created. Everything is someone else’s fault and if god forbid we run out of people to blame, we start blaming god or karma, anything but accept the blame ourselves. Bad things happen for a reason, if you’re a bad person then you get bad back. Bull fucking shit. Karma doesn’t exist, if something bad happens to me it’s because certain roads I took, decisions I made lead me to a situation where bad shit went down. It wasn’t because for the first time since the bible was written God decided to intervene and punish me a little. It wasn’t because maybe the other day I told an old lady she could cross the road when the light was still red so karma kicked me up the arse. It was because of me. I have no problem swallowing that little pill and my life is more hellish then most peoples, so if can accept the bad shit that I do, then why the fuck cant you? Its like your all so wrapped up in the moment that you cant even see the chain of events that lead you there, you’re so desperate to wallow in the feeling that you negate all responsibility to what you did to get down that road. Christ, I guess at least if you’re feeling the bad shit then your still alive or some bullshit like that. It boggles the mind.

             I know people who the made the wrong choices and landed their stupid arse in jail, they sit there and always say the same things; ‘I shouldn’t be here’ or ‘how did I get here?’ are they serious? I mean come on, you commit a crime then you do the time sweetheart. If you’re not prepared to face the consequences of your actions then don’t fucking do it or at least don’t sit there and moan about it after. What’s brought all this on? Well I’ve been thinking about my current situation and to be honest I have no-one I can blame other than myself. If I hadn’t have chosen this life, I’d never have met Monroe, I’d never have been in the situation where the police had enough dirt on me to make me agree to this suicidal deal and I wouldn’t have to fuck him every frigging day just to keep him sweet. C’est la vie.

            Tonight I finally get some time to myself. Monroe is preparing himself for the job tomorrow and I’m apparently doing the same. Well I’m not, I know how it’s going to go down and I know everything will work out because the filth will be turning a blind eye for once. Probably I’ll get the call saying that we need to go over to fine details and make sure we haven’t missed anything, probably that means I have to go over and suck his dick to calm his nerves but until then I’m enjoying my freedom. I hate anyone else having control over my life and just the thought of him clicking his fingers and me having to respond makes me feel sick. I control my life, I choose what I want to do and to have that taken from me is the worst punishment. Most of the time I don’t even know what to do with myself; I’m spending my time with him and when I’m with him nothing is in my control. God, how could I have been stupid enough to get involved with him all those years ago? Christ, what was I thinking? I mean granted he wasn’t as controlling back then and we were even so its not like I had to keep him sweet in order to live. We had a mutual respect for each other but now because of certain events, the respect is gone and to be honest if I actually survive this game; it’ll be a miracle.

             This is like the final blow out in a film, when the hero goes up against the villain and you know that one of them won’t make it out alive. Tension spreads through the air like smoke, suffocating everyone in its path, infecting them with this feeling of complete terror and suspense. Everyone is watching; all the lowlifes, all the scum that we’ve wronged somewhere along the line, just waiting and hoping. Wondering how two sworn enemies came to be partners again and just waiting for one of them to fuck up and blow the other ones brains out. Reality was that I would loose, no-one goes up against Monroe and wins.

             So why the fuck am I doing this? Why the fuck am I in this situation? Its Karma…apparently.   

            Good girls go to heaven; bad girls get to fuck Monroe. Probably that doesn’t sound like a bad thing considering all the stuff I’ve said about how he fucks but you know how sometimes you just want a quick fuck? You know wham, bam, thank you ma’am, that kinda thing. With Monroe it isn’t ever like that, there’s drama and effort. I don’t mind putting in the effort if it’s with someone I actually want to sleep with, like Montana. Take last night for example, after I finished filling you in on my life I had to go over to Monroe’s to ‘talk’ about the upcoming job. The talking lasted all of two minutes and then it was time to make him happy. He liked it rough and to be honest it was a good time to take out my anger on him, when people whip others it’s for a sexual thrill, when I whip him its because I hate him. He said he loves me because I don’t hold back, I do; if I didn’t I would kill him. And so when I put those cigarettes out on his chest, it wasn’t because I was getting carried away in the moment, it was because I wanted to cause him pain, even if it was just a fraction of what he inflicted upon me. The cigarettes were mild compared to what I’ve done to him in the past and yet nothing fazed him, not even when I pulled out the massive dildo, I mean there’s only one place I was shoving that and do you think he battered an eyelid? He didn’t even flinch. I’m sure you needed to know that little bit of information.

             Your probably wondering how such a cunt ended up in my life? It wasn’t exactly by accident. I knew who he was long before he knew me. I’d sussed him out as a rising star in the underworld and he was my competition. We both wanted the same thing, we both wanted to be top dog in this town, only one us would succeed and I figured I had to get him out of the way. Things didn’t exactly turn out the way I wanted, mostly I lost my temper, saw red and the next thing I know I’m in some shitty motel covered in someone else’s blood with a dead guy laying on the floor. I was new to town and I didn’t know the right kind of people to get me out of the mess I’d created. So I’d cleaned myself up and gone to the local, I knew Monroe would be there, I made my introductions although turned out he knew all about me. We chatted, we drank and then I unfortunately had to ask for his help. He was a gentleman and along with Montana sorted out everything. I’d meet Montana briefly a few nights before, I knew he was undercover the moment I saw him, Monroe however was not that smart. So anyway since I’d asked him to cover up a murder, I was in his debt. A whirlwind romance began and I had no choice but to step back as he progressed up the career ladder. So why aren’t we still together? Well shit happened and then the shit got bad so the only thing to do was walk away and avoid him. I would have done pretty damn well; I mean I’d made it two years without running into him which was quite an achievement given we both moved in the same circles. In fact everything was going great for me until G walked into my life with an ultimatum. Jail or help him. I could have gone to jail but to be honest I wouldn’t make it out alive and the thought of taking down Monroe was just too good to refuse.

             Really I should probably just take my chances in jail, Montana was in with Monroe for over two years and nothing he got would stick. It’s like Monroe had some fucking super power or something. I think the only reason Montana didn’t end up dead was because somewhere inside Monroe has respect for him. I think it’s mostly to do with Montana’s view of the law being a little grey and fuzzy. So now it’s down to me, I am the filths last resort and to be honest they really are scraping the barrel. I couldn’t be trusted with anything and knowing I was the only option that had made me smile a little. Okay, I lie. It made me smile a lot.

            So after a night of playing with fire I got to spend my day with him too. At least it wasn’t boring, there’s always something going down and if you were really lucky like I was you get to see exactly what the devil can do. I got to watch while Monroe killed a man with his bare hands. The poor dumb shit accidentally fucked up a job that Monroe has spent months meticulously planning. In a split second he went from normal to a crazy eyed psychopath, smashing the guys head onto the concrete floor, snarling and just repeatedly bouncing his head off the floor like he was a toy. I’d seen it all before, I’d seen him go from a family man to a raging killer within moments. Once Monroe had worked out his aggression on what was left of the poor guys head he turned to me, looked me dead in the eyes for what felt like forever. I thought I was next on the hit list until he smiled and suggested we got some lunch, I guess murder works up an appetite.  

             Shit, I have to go. Someone’s at the door. Where the fuck did I put my gun?

Once upon a time there was a young woman suddenly shoved into the big wide world. She worked hard to get a respectable job at a bank in a little town that seemed untouched by technology; that would be its downfall. The little old ladies that worked there adored her; they all wanted their sons to find a charming young lady like her to spend their days with. But there was a big bad monster, hiding and waiting to make its soul destroying move. As the days passed the young woman grew restless, awaiting the monsters arrival. She knew it was coming and she knew the devastation it would wreak but she couldn’t stop it. The monster wasn’t really to blame, after all it had always been that way, it had always destroyed everything it touched and the young woman should have known better then to block it out. Then one fateful night after the clock struck twelve, the monster reared its ugly head and the poor young woman robbed the very bank that had employed her. The old ladies were poor heartbroken but I didn’t stick around to find out.

            See once I had a proper job, it lasted one month. Just enough time to figure out how to rob it. My point is that somewhere inside me must be a sweet girl, after all the old ladies fucking loved me and not in a love to fuck me kind of way, I mean Jesus they’re old. They probably did want me though. I’ve lost my point, sorry one too many shots, probably. Where am I going with this? Your guess is as good as mine sweetheart.

             I’m just fucking with you; I’m breaking you in gently. Wouldn’t want you to throw up half way through reading. So obviously you know a few of my past indiscretions but I left out the details so I didn’t incriminate myself, however other peoples indiscretions can very much be shared. Yesterday I had the pleasure of hanging out with Monroe and his bitches, all ten of them. All coked up and thinking they were the big I am, acting like god and fucking the devil. Our local bar is a shitty little place known for its criminal activity and lenient landlord; this was where I got to enjoy my day. Monroe had decided that if I was to be trusted then he had to ‘get to know me again’ by this he meant, get me drunk, try to make me spill my secrets and then fuck me. I will drink as much as any man but I will never open my mouth and get myself in trouble. So after hours of plying me with alcohol, he realised he wasn’t getting anywhere and stopped the interrogation, at which point he untied me from the seat and allowed me to circulate the room. Dickhead.

             The room was pretty boring, usual lowlifes and scumbags enjoy a pleasant drink and a fight or two. Mostly the more time I spent away from Monroe the better. I was minding my own business and hustling some guys at pool when I spotted a familiar face walk in. The face in question belonged to the lowest scumbag of all, Carlos something or another; I never bothered to learn his last name. Carlos was a drug dealer, arms dealer and petty thief. I realise that actually makes him sound interesting but he’s really not. Poor little Carlos couldn’t pull a job if it was handed to him on a plate. He was shockingly bad at his ‘career’ and it amazed me that he wasn’t in jail yet. Our paths had crossed a few times, mostly when a job I was doing coincided with his and I had to get his ass out of trouble or risk us both going to jail. Carlos knew Monroe by association and so he had heard that I was back on the scene, knowing that he knew me better then he knew Monroe, I became his new best friend and the one that could get him in with the big dogs.

             Carlos had a hot temper, he was known for acting first and not actually thinking at all. That’s not necessarily a bad thing but in my world it can get you killed. Knowing when to act is the difference between life and death. Mostly I had introduced Carlos to Monroe because I figured by the time the night was over, he’d probably be dead. Turns out Carlos amused Monroe and it was like he was a little pet, although I don’t think Monroe’s pets have a very long lifespan, probably a week or two until he gets kicked to the curb or dropped into the river. The thing about snorting that one line too many is that you actually believe the bullshit coming out of your mouth. You believe you’re invincible, you’re god. The only problem with playing god is that someone has to be the devil, Monroe would only take so much from Carlos and I’m counting down the seconds.

             Apparently picking up girls outside a bar is the done thing; I guess a lot of guys do it. Picking up underage girls outside a mall is Carlos’s thing and Monroe was all too pleased to indulge his fantasies. Hence how we all ended up back at Monroe’s fancy house with a group of girls, two of which should have been at home with mummy. Carlos was fucked, flying high on a coke fuelled, alcohol riddled trip of greatness, apparently but if he could have seen what I was seeing then he would have realised he was not great. The problem with being a criminal and associating with the moraless is that you get to witness some pretty horrific scenes; you get to see human nature at its most grittiest, primal and vile. The best part of all of this is that you get to turn a blind eye, you get to act like nothing untoward is going on and you get watch the aftermath with no moral implications that maybe you should have stepped in. I could have stopped those two girls drinking the rohypnol laced champagne or stopped Carlos carrying them into a bedroom but I didn’t and you’re really not gonna like my reasoning as to why. For one, those girls willingly went with us to the house, they willingly took the drinks, I mean for fucks sake doesn’t anyone have a brain anymore? I’m aware that it wasn’t a nice thing to happen but I guess when you’re a girl whose daddy loved her in the wrong way you loose a little sympathy for girls who willingly put themselves in a dangerous situation.

             What kind of person does that make me? Well save your judgement because you weren’t there and if it makes your poor little souls feel better, I did actually stop them from getting raped mostly because I acted like I wanted in on the fun and wore poor little Carlos out before he got to them. Fucking bitches had better not cross my path again. What happened to childhood? Where the fuck did it go? Seems to me like everyone is in such a rush to grow up, to be an adult. Well fuck that shit, I’d give anything to be a child again, to be the age where I didn’t quite know all the bad things going on around me, where I could play with my dolls and a time where I was innocent and hadn’t yet learnt how to be my daddy’s little bitch. Fucking children. Nothing is innocent anymore; nothing is sacred and nowhere is safe. Bleak view of the world, some might say. And to those people I say open your eyes darlin’ the world is falling apart and ironically the safest world to be in, is mine. The criminal world is dishonest and evil but at least you know what to expect, if you think the worst of someone you can never be disappointed. 

             Sometimes I get a little dark, I apologise but this ain’t no walk in the park sweetheart. Life isn’t always rainbows and puppy dogs, the sooner people realise that the better. I could sweeten it up for you and maybe throw in a love story but that would be a lie and I may be a lot of things but a liar I’m not…okay that might not be the truth.

Bless me father for I have sinned. It has been nearly two weeks since my last confession; I have been a very naughty girl. These are my sins; I used the name of God in anger, surprise and ecstasy. I had three fights in the past two days, I won but I swore a little in the process. Please lord forgive me for my sins. Ha! Almost made it sound believable.

            Have you ever woken up and it felt like today would be the day you were going to die? I did, one week ago mostly because I woke up to a man pointing a gun at my head. I should have been scared but in all honesty it wasn’t the first time. I’d squished all my fear down and put on my best bravado act. I’d given a mouthful of abuse, gotten dragged out of my bed, forced to get dressed and escorted down to an old warehouse. I’d been here before too many times. It was where the man that wanted me dead worked from, his front for his criminal dealings. The legal business where the dirt got cleaned away.

            I feel like I haven’t explained everything and I probably never will, gotta keep some things secret. I may have exaggerated the extremity of the man that wants to kill me. This man Monroe by all means does want me dead and he definitely wants to be the one that causes it but it’s just a number on his long list of vendettas. I know I may well have a good few years before my numbers up but it was still daunting to be sitting in front of him. If I had been a guy my balls would have retreated up inside my body. So what was I doing here? The idiot G had told me I had to get back in with Monroe and I really didn’t want to play that game. Unfortunately I had to and this was all part of the plan. I’d put word about that I was planning a big job and I was looking for the right people to pull it off. I knew the whispers would get to Monroe and it would be too big an offer for him to refuse. He would eventually drag me back into his world and it would begin. That’s exactly what he did, you see he may hate me and he may want me dead but he knew I was good at what I did, and he also wanted me back on his cock. You thought my morals were bad, this guy doesn’t have any.

            So I sat in front of him refusing to let him in on my plan, claiming that I had no need for him. He smiled his charming smile and offered me a drink, as I took it he kissed my hand and for a moment I almost remembered years of repressed memories. I forced them away and smiled back. He was still as charming as ever, it was weird and unnerving that someone as evil as him could easily charm the birds from the trees without even breaking a sweat. It made me feel sick to feel his lips linger on my hand, almost as if his evil was seeping through my skin and chilling me to the very core. Dramatic, huh? Darlin’ my descriptions are only half way near what it was really like. There isn’t a bad enough word out there to describe him, nothing could ever come close. I mean Christ, how do you describe the devil?

            It took him until I’d finished my drink to have supposedly made me change my mind. Over another drink I had explained exactly what I wanted to do and in specific detail told him everything I needed to do it. It took him one more drink and a very hidden uncomfortable silence to inform me that he wanted in, how much cut he wanted and who he thought we should get involved too. I laughed at him and told him the under no uncertain circumstances would he get to muscle in on my job, by all means he could be involved but it was limited to his skills and not in his control, at this point the gun was brought back to my head and cocked, this time the smile was not charming, it was sickly and uncompromising. It was my cue to change my mind and let him in as an equal partner. I was temped to tell him where to go but I got the feeling my life would be over before I finished saying ‘fuck you’ and so I smiled sweetly and said ‘of course sweetheart, you can be my partner again and this time I’ll try not to fuck you over.’ It was the fuck you over part that I felt his bitch press the gun harder to my head before Monroe gave him the look and he left, then I got the look that told me I was about to be fucked by an animal.

            Was it worth it? To be fucked like a piece of meat, a puppet for the pure purpose of satisfying his needs? Of course it fucking was, if you’ve never been fucked like that then you haven’t lived and you definitely haven’t experienced the best sex of your life. Think what you want about me, judge me as much as you like but secretly somewhere deep down in a place that you hide and pray never rears its ugly head, you wish that just maybe once you could experience it. Would I ever admit that to him? Hell no, his ego did not need inflating.

                After my rather eventful day the rest of my week was spent pretty much the same way, fucking and planning and spending time in hell then reporting it all to G. Soon my job would go ahead and after its successful Monroe will start to trust me, involve me in his revolting world. This had better work otherwise I’m wasting my time and getting into Montana’s bad books. Monroe and Montana are sworn enemies, what with Montana spending his career hunting Monroe down and just waiting for the chance to haul his ass off to jail. I suppose knowing that there was a pretty high chance I was fucking him probably didn’t make Montana feel any better, it’s not my fault he loves me anyway.

            I’ll try not to leave it so long until my next confessional however my life is way more complicated and exiting then yours and so I don’t get to spend every minute of my life online. I know it’s going to be very hard but try not to miss me too much and if you find yourself thinking about me, just remind yourself that its only because I’m everything you want to be, darlin’ I’m fucking amazing.

            Did you have a good weekend? Chilling, drinking, fucking? I mean that’s what you spend your whole week slaving away for, right? To me the weekend is just like any other time of the week; I have no weekend, not really. I don’t have to wait for a Friday or a Saturday to drink or fuck. I do it when I want and that’s why I live how I live. That’s a lie, I live how I live because it’s the only thing in my life that I’m actually pretty damn good at. I know crime is a weird thing to be good at but hey God gave me a talent and it would be an awful shame to waste it.

            Last night I went to one of my ‘business’s’ to collect my takings for the week, it should have been an easy enough task. I mean hell I do it every other day. So what went wrong last night? Well last night the cops were waiting for me. They hauled my ass off to the station and promptly checked me into an interview room. I was no stranger to the process and found the whole thing rather boring. I got left on my own for what felt like hours, it was a tactic designed to make me panic, it never worked. Eventually they decided I had been left to my own devices long enough and a man came in. He looked like he’d been doing the job too long and had eaten way too many donuts. His dark hair was greying and he needed a hair cut, fine lines were beginning to turn into deep lines, probably from the stress of the job. He sat down for a whole ten minutes before he spoke, again intended to make me sweat.

            The man was a detective, I’ll called him G, mostly because if I mention his real name my ass will be in jail quicker then I can finish this sentence. So G is the top dog and he wants my help. That makes me sound like I have a choice, I actually don’t. I help him or I go to jail and as I don’t like jail, helping is my only real option. Turns out he needs me to help him bring down the very man that wants me dead so it’s for the best.

            All this is making my weekend sound far more exciting then it was. Usual bullshit really. Obviously Montana came over Friday night and left lunch time on Saturday, mostly he just wanted to spend as much time with me as he could, idiot      Christ I’m even boring myself right now. Maybe if I’m gonna die soon I should probably tell you more about my past and my accomplishments. I grew up in a shitty little town with sorry excuses for residents. I’m an only child; luckily my parents gave up reproducing after I came along. They never really wanted me anyway, they just never got around to having the abortion and no amount of hitting my mother in the stomach made me go away, much to my father’s disgust. I’m sure my parents loved me; in their own fucked up way. My daddy loved me a little too much if you catch my drift, mostly he was a cunt that had no self control. Like I’ve said my mother was a whore, she slept with men for money, alcohol or drugs.

            I learnt that crime pays at a very young age, if you wanted to get ahead in life you had to beg, cheat or steal. I don’t beg, it’s degrading; you could hold a gun to my head and tell me to beg for my life and I would let you shoot me. I do cheat and I do steal, no point in even trying to say I don’t. I was a smart kid, in fact I think if I’d been brought up in a different place by different people, I would be regarded as a genius and probably own a legitimate company. I learnt how to manipulate and play people as soon as I could talk. It was a fun game. I never do anything without knowing all the possible outcomes. If I don’t like the odds, I will change my tactics so I win. I don’t believe in putting others first. I don’t have friends, friends in my world could cost me my life. Any emotion that I choose to show, no matter how convincing it may seem is just a ruse, a way of manipulating the situation to my advantage. Those with the ability to change their emotions and point of view will most likely win. Sometimes I let others think they came out on top but it will only ever be because that’s what I need them to believe.

            Shit! Where the fuck did the time go? I have a meeting in an hour and I haven’t even reloaded my gun. I haven’t even got clothes on, damn it.

                                     Try not to miss me too much.

Well last night was a waste of my time. Did I do a job? Of course, did it pay off? Not really. I knew it wouldn’t be a big score because it was low key but I guess I was hoping the rush would make up for it, it didn’t. My gang are so fucking stupid that they almost got themselves arrested and muggings here had to go rescue them. It wouldn’t be so bad if this wasn’t a common occurrence. The only reason I keep them is because they’re like pets, they amuse me and also if I think something’s too risky I send them in first and see what happens. I figure if they don’t get caught then I’ll be fine, I mean anyone that stupid that gets away with it is pretty handy to have around sometimes.

            The only reason they didn’t get arrested was because I knew one of the filth and he took pity on me. This member of the filth isn’t partial to straying to the dark side, hence how I know him well enough to offer him a blow job in exchange for our freedom. We’ll call him Montana, he’s a hot piece of man and in the past has been undercover in my neck of the woods. I probably shouldn’t say too much about him but at the end of the day, fuck it. Not like he can kill me, someone else wants to do that first and anyway he loves me. Don’t ask me why, I couldn’t tell you. It’s certainly not because of my sparkling personality. I met Montana years ago when I first started out in this city, I was making a name for myself and he was trying to bring down my partner at the time. We aren’t partners anymore, he doesn’t like me much. Apparently grassing him up to save my own skin pissed him off. Any one would think there was some kind of honour and integrity amongst thieves.

            My world and the people I surround myself with are the kind of people that society hides away from, bad to the very core and with very little compassion for others. I choose to live that way, at least in this world I know who I can trust, no-one. In your vanilla world, you think you can trust people and you get hurt. Sure maybe there’s a few out there that are good and won’t fuck you over but sweetheart, somewhere along the line, they will. I’m not a pessimist, I’m realistic. I know what that everything I do has consequences but I choose to ignore them.

            I suppose you might like to know what I’ve done, well when I was younger I got arrested for arson, stealing cars, burglary, assault, assault with a deadly weapon and possession of a class A drug with the intent to supply and attempted murder. Most of those I got left off for and obviously some of them meant I ended up in jail. I usually got out early on good behaviour. Once I got older and wiser and learnt how not to get caught. Mostly these days I get my money from running an illegal bookies and loan company, broken kneecaps included. I tend to stay away from the drug scene, its too hot and too competitive, not that I couldn’t come out on top, it’s just a lot of effort. I deal with a lot of industry break ins and insurance scams. I dabble in fraud, mostly so I don’t have to spend my own money. I have killed people and I have no doubt that at some point I will kill again. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not some sadistic serial killer, I don’t kill for pleasure. In the past I killed because I had to, it was a me or them situation. I’d love to say I felt guilty about it, mostly because I’m sure that’s what you want to hear but I don’t, they deserved what they got because they weren’t nice people. I’m not a nice person either and so yes I do deserve what I have coming and if it makes you feel any better it really wont be a pretty ending for me.

            The Man that wants to kill me is one sadistic motherfucker, he does kill for pleasure and I would say he enjoys it more then sex. I’ve seen his sex face and I’ve seen his murder face, there’s no difference. I admit that I deserve to die but I’d give anything for it not to be him watching as I take my last breath and seeing the light fade from my eyes. He is not the person I want to see while I lay dying. If I could kill him first I would but I know that although I could take down anyone out there, he’s always one step ahead of me. He knows how my mind works and he uses it to his advantage. It’s almost like a game of cat and mouse to him and I know he just loves playing it.

            Well Montana is here to get his reward, so I’ll have to love you and leave you.