The following is a work of fiction consisting of adult concepts and 
possibly sex. Do not read if you are not legally permitted. I don't 
want the police on my front doorstep.
You are welcome to read but please don't distribute without my 
permission.
Feel free to make any comments to the author.
Send E-Mail to dalech33@hotmail.com

======================================================================
Rebekka with a K (A Write Club Challenge)


Her name was Rebekka, Rebekka with a K. Short with curly red hair and 
sparkling green eyes, skin so white it could send you blind, and lips 
that were full and luscious. 

I met her at a local Blue Light Disco, a dance held at the local youth 
club for kids who couldn't legally go to real nightclubs. It was 
supposed to be an alcohol and drug free area, but when you put a group 
of teenagers together drugs and alcohol just seemed to gravitate 
towards them, just like a boulder will roll downhill. It's physics, 
pure and simple. Which brings me to why Snake and I were there. We 
needed to score, bad. Things were starting to float around in my 
peripheral vision, nasty things with big teeth. This was the downside 
of doing heroin, those nasty little buggers were always there, just 
waiting in the background until my guard was down. Only a hit could 
keep them at bay, and I fully intended to score one now. 

Snake had told me about a dealer he knew that hung around places like 
this. Apparently this dealer liked the idea of desperate teenage girls 
sucking his dick just to get high. 

Personally, I preferred to pay cash. 

The two of us had been wandering around the crowd and trying to look 
inconspicuous. Of course what we really looked like was two drug 
addicts looking to score, but my father always told me attitude was 
everything. I don't know why I would take advice from someone who 
spent most of his time in a whorehouse instead of home with his 
family, but he was the only father I had. Mum on the other hand, was 
one smart cookie. She was the Scrabble Queen of the East Coast, and 
could make a word out of almost nothing. 

"Imbroglio," she had once said while putting the tiles down on the 
board. 

My father stared at the word like it was some strange alien language. 
It was the day before payday so he didn't have the cash to be putting 
it to some whore. "What the fuck is imbroglio?" he had demanded.

"It's a confused heap, a tangle," replied mum. "Bit like this marriage 
really."

That was mum, always willing to let dad know just how much of a 
shitheel he was. 
Dad was usually too stupid to realise when she was putting him down, 
so he'd just grunt and go back to the game, usually by making the word 
CAT or something equally inspired. I loved my mum, but dad was just a 
bit too much for me, what with his womanising and all. Towards the end 
I was always looking for a way out of there, trying to find an escape 
route. Mum always said I was fugacious, and I always liked the sound 
of it, even if I didn't know what it meant. But the problem was money 
was always hard to come by were I lived. It was almost impossible to 
get a job, and the dole was bugger all, so I was stuck where I was. 

That's when my friend Snake introduced me too Lady Heroin. Ah, sweet 
brown powder of dreams, where had thou been all my life. Kiss me 
gently, and let me fly on your gossamer wings. The first time I jacked 
I was hooked, not because it's addictive as all hell, but because I 
had finally found my escape. My Lady could be a demanding mistress 
though, and the meagre dole that the government hands out would never 
be enough. So I took to boosting car stereos and performing break and 
enters. I was pretty good at it too, sort of a natural talent, and I 
never once came close to getting caught. I made a mistake though when 
I hocked the family television set. I don't know what possessed me to 
do that, I was in need of a fix and the damn thing was just sitting 
there in the living room, staring at me with its one blank eye. When 
dad came home that night he noticed it was gone, and his son was 
lounging about the place with that big goofy "I'm flying" grin on his 
face. Next thing I knew I was out on the street and looking for a 
place to sleep. Fortunately Snake had a squat where I could crash. 
Good old Snake always seemed to be there when I needed him. We set up 
home and set about doing the only thing that really mattered to us, 
trying to score.

Which brings us neatly back to the disco. Snake had spotted his dealer 
and was dragging me over to him when I saw this vision in red bangs. 
She saw me too, and I could tell that she was interested by the way 
she looked away quickly, then slowly back at me. Teenage girls are 
nowhere near as subtle as they like to think they are. I lost her in 
the crowd though as Snake dragged me ever onward, and I thought that 
was the end of it. But after we had got what we had come for, I saw 
her again, standing at the front doors. She was looking around for 
something, or someone, and I had a fair idea of who it was she was 
looking for. We had our stash, the nasty things had slunk away for 
now, so I decided to get acquainted.

"Hi," I said, using my best line.

"Hi," she said back. She had played this game before.

"My name's Gavin, but everyone calls me Pilot."

"I'm Rebekka, with a K," she replied. "Why do they call you Pilot?"

"Because I like to fly, Rebekka with a K." I saw her glance at Snake 
so I decided to introduce him to her. "And this tall streak of Pelican 
shit is Clarence, aka Snake, so called because he has a habit of 
hugging people like an anaconda when he's high." They both nodded an 
acknowledgement to each other.

"Do you get high very often?" she asked me.

"Only when I need to," I replied, trying my hardest to look suave and 
sophisticated. It was hard considering that all I wanted to do was 
scratch the hell out of my arms. My craving had made a comeback, and 
this time it had brought it's big sister, Desire, with it. "Look," I 
said, "we have to get going now."

"Already?" she replied, a hint of disappointment crossing her face.

"I'm afraid so. Things to do, places to go and all that," I said. 
Things were starting to get tight, the walls were getting closer and I 
could hear the gnashing of teeth coming from behind me. It was 
definitely time to go.

"Can we come with you then?" asked Rebekka with a K. She pointed to 
another girl standing next to her, a girl I hadn't even noticed 
before. "Karen and I spent all our money and we don't have cab fare."

"Umm, we aren't exactly flushed with cash either," I said.

"Well all we really need is a place to crash. We're supposed to be 
staying at Karen's brother's place, but he's at his girlfriend's so he 
won't miss us."

It took me a while to try to get all this information into some sort 
of order, but basically she wanted to come home with us, which was 
just fine by me. Our squat was just down the road anyway, which was a 
good thing really because I desperately needed a hit. The four of us 
made our way along the darkened streets to an old abandoned apartment 
block that Snake and I called home. It was quite a find actually. The 
walls and windows were still intact, and somehow the power company had 
forgotten to disconnect the power, so we actually had light. Nothing 
else though, junkies tend not to accumulate household goods, unless 
said goods are in transit to the local pawnshop. We did have 
mattresses though, so we didn't have to sleep on the cold floor. Snake 
and I set up our party items, a syringe, an old spoon, and a candle 
complete with holder. Then we set about getting high.

I love the feeling of that initial hit, when warmth starts to flow 
through my body, relaxing my muscles and flooding my brain with 
pleasure. That's when I start to fly. My body gets so light that 
gravity can no longer hold it down and I start to float about the room 
on little currents of air. I drifted up towards the ceiling before 
slowly turning over to gaze down at the room. I saw Snake, lying on 
the floor and gazing up at me. Karen, sitting on an old chair she had 
found and looking at Snake in a most peculiar way. And Rebekka with a 
K, looking at me and smiling. She took me by the hand and gently 
pulled me over to my mattress in the corner. As I watched from above 
she slowly undressed and then lay beneath me on the bed. This was an 
interesting turn of events, and before I knew it my clothes had 
magically removed themselves from my body and drifted off on their own 
to parts unknown. My body started to drift down to her waiting arms, 
my prick growing hard as I descended. As I settled onto her I started 
to wonder about Snake and Karen. Would they be offended to see us in 
the corner, getting to know each other in the most intimate way 
possible? I looked over and was surprised to see the both of them 
naked, Snake lying on his back and giggling, Karen astride him and 
going to town like a woman who hasn't been laid since the dawn of 
time. I looked down at Rebekka with a K and smiled. She smiled back 
and I felt fireworks explode in my head.

"I love you," I said.

"I love you too," she replied.

***

That was the first night of many for us. She never went home again, 
and though I sometimes wonder what her parents might have thought, I 
didn't really care because she was with me. Snake and Karen hit it off 
in a big way. They developed an interesting sexual relationship, a 
very public one. It was like a contest for them, having sex wherever 
they possibly could. In bus stops, on trains, in elevators, anywhere 
they possibly could without actually getting arrested. It became 
dangerous for us to go places with them, you could look away for just 
a second and when you looked back someone would have something stuck 
in someone else. And just watching them go at it would be too much for 
Rebekka and I to resist, we would just have to join in. So then you 
would have four teenagers going at it on a bus, or in a park, or 
wherever. I still don't know how we never got caught. Snake and I 
still continued to score, stealing VCR's and televisions, and then 
hocking them for a fraction of what they were worth just so we could 
feed our habit. I don't know when Karen started using, but she took to 
it like a duck takes to water. So that just left Rebekka with a K, the 
only one in our little group who wasn't using. I didn't want her to do 
it either. I knew what it was like to be continually hungry for that 
brown powder, and I decided that she wasn't going to get hooked on it. 
So it came as a bit of a shock when she finally asked me to set her 
up.

"No," I had said, shaking my head vehemently.

"Why not?" she asked. "You do it, Snake and Karen do it, why can't I?"

"Because you're better than that," I replied.

"But I just want to know what it's like. Just one little hit, that's 
all. Just so I can know what you feel like when you do it." She looked 
at me with those sparkling green eyes and I knew all was lost, I just 
couldn't resist her. So I gave in and jacked her up, and that was it. 
One hit was all it took, she entered that Purple Haze and never looked 
back. So now all four of us were using, which meant Snake and I had to 
work twice as hard to get the cash we needed. We had four arms to feed 
now. 

Things went well for a while, sure it was tough getting the gear we 
needed to pay for our supplies, but we were getting by. Until the day 
Snake walked into our squat with a gun. He had bought it at a 
pawnshop, instead of getting the cash like he was supposed to do.

"What the hell are you doing with that?" I demanded. I was getting 
close to the edge again and needed a fix bad. I always got edgy when I 
was like that.

"This," said Snake, turning the gun over in his hands, "is going to 
get us all the cash that we need.

"That," replied Rebekka, "is going to get us killed. Get rid of it 
before you hurt someone."

"I'm not going to hurt anyone," said Snake, "It's just a replica. But 
we can use it to knock over a liquor store. There's a lot of cash in 
those places."

"No way," I replied. "It's too dangerous. Just hock it so we can 
score. I need a fix bad, Snake, really bad." It was true, I was in 
desperate shape. The last batch wasn't that strong, and I had given 
Rebekka some of my share so that she could get off. But it left me 
wanting, no, needing more.

"Don't worry, Pilot," said Snake, "I'll get you all the stuff you will 
ever need. Come on, Karen, I'll need a lookout." And with that they 
walked out of the squat, and our lives. We never saw them again, but 
we did find out what had happened. Snake and Karen had tried to hold 
up a liquor store, just like he had promised. But the owner had other 
ideas, and a shotgun under the counter. He had killed Snake with the 
first shot, and fatally wounded Karen with the second. The media had 
held him up as a hero, the little man fighting back against the evil, 
gun-toting drug addicts. All I know is that my best friend left that 
day, and he was never coming back.

***

Things went from bad to worse then. I was too far gone to do a break 
and enter, or even to rip off a car stereo, so it was up too Rebekka 
to get us some cash. She didn't have the skills or talents I had, so 
she got the money the only way she could. She sold her body. It killed 
a part of me when she told me what she had done, about how she had let 
some fat ugly son of a bitch stick his dick inside her for a lousy 
fifty bucks. But another part of me didn't care, the part of me that 
could only see the cash, and what it could buy. I swore to myself that 
she would never have to do such a thing again, but promises made by a 
junkie, even to himself, aren't worth shit. Rebekka became our main 
source of income by working on her back, or her knees when it came to 
the pious Priests of St Josephs, Priests who would preach on Sunday 
and pay whores on Monday, just so we could feed the monkey that was 
now perched firmly on our backs. The good Lady Heroin had gone, what 
was left was an ugly old crone with a grip like a vice. I wanted her 
to stop the prostitution, stop selling her body to support me, but I 
was weak. I decided to get off the drugs so that she wouldn't have to 
do this anymore, but I had no idea how. So I went to church.

I decided to see Father O'Brien, a Californian Priest who had come 
down under to spread the word. My Mother had always gone to him for 
advice, and I knew my Mum was not stupid, so I figured he would be the 
one to help. I told him my troubles, though leaving Rebekka out of it 
for now, and he thought it over.

"You know the church doesn't have a rehabilitation centre, don't you?" 
he asked.

"I know, Father. But I can't afford to go to the privately run ones, I 
just don't have access to that sort of money."

"Then you will have to do it on your own."

"I can't, Father, I tried too, but I just don't have the will power."

"Ah. This man had, after many vicissitudes of fortune, sunk at last 
into abject and hopeless poverty. Macaulay said that." He looked at my 
bewildered face. "It doesn't matter, it's just a quote. The point is 
you have reached the lowest point of your life, now it's time to rise 
up."

"But I can't do it on my own, I need help. Won't you please help me, 
Father?" I hated begging, but I was desperate.

"I can help you, my Son, but you have to do something for me in 
return."

"What?" I asked. But one look into his eyes revealed all. I knew 
exactly what this man wanted from me. This man of the cloth, this well 
respected Priest, wanted something from me I wasn't willing to give. I 
didn't bother to wait for an answer, I just got up and left.

***

When I got back to the squat Rebekka was waiting for me. She had 
scored from a new source that she had found and was more excited than 
a kid on Christmas Eve.

"Look at this," she said, holding out the small foil package for me to 
see. "It's almost pure, or at least, that's what the dealer said. We 
should get really high on this."

"Pure?" I asked doubtfully. I had heard of pure stuff being available 
but had never seen it myself. Personally I thought of it as one of 
those urban myths.  I noticed that she had a mobile phone sitting on 
the floor next to her. "Where did you get that?" I asked.

"The phone? I stole it from a john I had last night. I doubt he will 
miss it, he was pretty drunk when I left." 

I hated hearing about her work. Every word was like a rusty razorblade 
cutting deeply into my heart. Maybe I should take Father O'Brien up on 
his offer. It would only be for a couple of weeks, and then I could 
help Rebekka get off the heroin as well. And with us both clean we 
could live happy, productive lives. Get a job, a house with a white 
picket fence, a dog, a cat, kids, and grandkids, grow old together. It 
was the perfect dream. I decided to do it. 

Tomorrow. But first, just one last hit. I decided to play it safe and 
make up a smaller than average batch, just in case it was as pure as 
her dealer had said. Rebekka had made the score so she got to go 
first. I cooked it up while she tied a belt around her arm, then I 
took her by the hand and gently penetrated a vein. The drug swept into 
her bloodstream and she smiled at me. And then her eyes rolled back 
into their sockets, and her heels started to beat a tattoo on the 
floor. Her arm jerked from my grasp, the needle flying across the room 
as she started to convulse. 

I panicked, I didn't know what to do. Here was my one and only true 
love banging the back of her head against the floor while spittle flew 
from her mouth, and all I could do was sit there and watch her. She 
was dying and I couldn't do a thing to stop it. And then I saw the 
phone. I snatched it up and called an ambulance while Rebekka with a K 
lay dying behind me. By the time help arrived she had stopped 
convulsing and was just lying there, gazing up at the ceiling with 
those green eyes that no longer sparkled. The paramedic took one look 
at her and then asked me what drug she had taken. I just waved at the 
small package, not really caring anymore. She was gone, I knew that. 
Rebekka with a K was no more. He took one look at the drug, then 
reached into his box of tricks and pulled out a vial of clear liquid. 
He quickly transferred the drug to a syringe and injected it into her 
arm.

Rebekka with a K sat bolt upright with a sound like a deep-sea diver 
coming up for air. She was alive, deathly pale but alive. 

I couldn't believe it. My angel was back. I grabbed her and held her 
close, never wanting to let her go again.

"You're alive," I said and kissed her.

"Did you use your share?" she asked.

"No, thank God," I replied. I was finished with that stuff after what 
had just happened. There way no way I was going to shoot up again.

"Can I have it?" she asked.

She nearly died. No, she had died, and now she wanted more? My heart 
shattered in my chest when I heard her ask that. I knew then that she 
didn't love me, she loved the drug. I was just someone to spend time 
with. The next day I went to Father O'Brien, and I wasn't wrong about 
what he wanted, but I wanted out and that was the only way. I never 
went back to her, and never saw her again.

The End