T h e H o o k e r D a n a A good girl from a good home throws all comfortable a "normal" things in life down the drain, and becomes the cheapest street-dwelling hooker available – out of a mere self-destructive impulse. A Roman by Yonny Love (citruslove12@yahoo.com) All Right Reserved to ©Yonny Love, 2004 C h a p t e r O n e "I'll do my crying in the rain" is now on in the next-shop radio, right near my… living-hall (or, the living of the hole… ha-ha, how nice a joke). Thankfully, there is no rain today. Sun shine and all. Soon some customer would probably pop in, but till then, here is the continuation of my "life"-story. So, the bastard. By the end of that summer, that cursedful summer, I had been pregnant with this despeakable creature's child. When he had heard that, first thing he slapped me, then kicked me, then (as I was already lying on the stinky floor of his… "room") spat on me, then kicked my face and said, "don't you DARE asking ME anything, you little bitch! Now, Get the hell OUT of my home, OUT of my life, OUT of my sight!!!" And with THAT, he'd kicked me again – and I had rushed away, stumbling and running as fast as I had possibly could, hearing him screaming after me, "an' don't you DARE comin' here, ever again!!!" And this was it. As far as he cared, by that, he had finished all his possible obligations to our future baby. And – do I *have* to say I was crushed? Of course, at the current state of affairs, the most logical and the ONLY solution had been, for me, to rush to the closest clinic and schedule an abortion. I was not the first girl nor the last, whom such selfish bastards stuck with an unwanted child inside her belly. But I was not thinking logicly, or at all. For the next three days, everything I could possibly do, was crying, crying, crying all the time, and just by the fourth day I was at all capable of telling my Loving Parents, WHAT had happened. Then THEY had, of course, very gently offered an abortion, I had agreed with them immediately, that I did not want this child – did not want HIS child, nowhere, and most certainly not inside me, and so, we went together to the clinic and scheduled an appointment, just three days ahead. I've never showed up to this appointment. Why? Due to my extreme stupidity, what ELSE do you think it could possibly have been? The very next day, as I stumbledly stepped Home from school, my eyes so filled up with tears I could not have seen what is ahead of me, I had happened to stuck my head right into a traffic light. And when I had looked up to it, my eyes rested upon a sticker, screaming, plain and simple, "abortion is murder!". And THAT has pushed me well over the edge. For the next three months, I had not been myself anymore. My poor Parents, seeing me like that, had no other option anymore, but having me hospitalized, temporarily, and signed on all the necessary documents, in order to put me through the abortion procedure against my will. Of course, NOW I can see, how wise and necessary their step had been; but – at the time – I had hated them, for doing so, more than words can possibly say. It had taken me years to even want to talk to them again – and by then, it was already *too late*: I was living on the streets, addicted to Cocain, and opening my mouth, and legs, in honour of everything that could pay. And I do mean "everything". But we'll come to that later. Hearing everything that had happened, the Israeli Deffence Forces have chose not to recruit me yet at 18, but to give me one more year, and then to check things once again. I had cried and begged them to take me, deep inside me I knew, I must have known, this was my very last and only chance, to get over everything that happened and restore my Life as it should have been (plus my entire life I'd been dreaming, of wearing the military uniform and saluting to my commanders, going upwards and upwards in the ranks and becoming the envy of all young teenage-feminists… Ho, sweetful childish dreams they were… Sweet, and ever so innocent, childhood wishes) – but, no use: they just did not want a broken, mentally-unstable girl, who had just gone through an unwillingful abortion and an intensive, though brief, psychiatric hospitalization? "Come back next year", smiled the cute clerk cheeringly at me, "if all would be fine we'll recruit you then for sure, I promise!" Little did she know…