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…