Beautifully Broken

“Thank you,” they both reply in unison.

“Is this your first time here?” I ask.

“Yes,” she answers. “I didn’t quite know what to expect. I have to admit…it’s not as bad as I thought it’d be.”

I chuckle as I turn to address her. “Well, that’s always good. I’d hate to sour your night.”

“Oh, you’re not,” she assures me. “I’m…enjoying myself.” She looks away shyly, embarrassed by her admission.

Personally, I don’t see what the big deal is. We both have the same parts, and let’s face it—naked women are pretty to look at. It’s been scientifically proven that women can be easily turned on by another woman, no matter their sexual preference. The timid ones tend to get hung up over what they think they should be thinking or feeling based on societal standards.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?”

“Gabby. And that handsome man over there is Rick.”

“Gabby, would you like me to dance for Rick? Would you like to watch that?”

“Um…” She lifts her chin after a moment and nods confidently. “Yes. Yes, I think I would like that.”

I grin knowing that Gabby and Rick are going to have a great time when they get home tonight.

I’m exhausted by the time I pull into my parking spot but I have to drop next month’s rent check in the slot before heading to Gavin’s. He’s been in Sausalito all week so I’ve been staying at his place with Frodo. Despite my fatigue, my body’s humming in excitement from all the money I made tonight. It’s definitely a great way to end the week when you have enough to pay for two months’ rent. I open the door to my apartment and find Cybil passed out on the couch.

“Oh, geez,” I mutter as I kick the back of the couch. “Cybil, get up. What are you doing here? You don’t live here anymore in case you forgot.”

She mumbles incoherently.

I round the couch and shake her foot. “Cybil, seriously. You can’t just come back here whenever you need a place to pass out drunk. You left me, remember?”

She rolls over and falls on the floor. That’s when I notice that her eyes are closed and there’s a tourniquet tied around her arm.

“Oh, fuck!” I cry as I run over to her side. I shake her gently. “Cybil, wake up.”

She still doesn’t respond so I lightly tap her cheek. “C’mon, Cybil. Don’t do this.” I move closer to her ear. “WAKE UP! MOM! MOM! Damn it, WAKE UP!”

I start shaking her shoulders violently when she does not react to my screaming in her face. Her lips have a bluish tint to them and she has vomit down the front of her shirt. Oh, God. I dig through my purse for my cell and dial 911.

“Hello 911 Emergency. Do you need police, ambulance, or fire?”

“Hello,” I respond frantically. “I need help. My mom…my mom overdosed, I think. Heroin. She does heroin.” My eyes dart around the room and sure enough, I spot the needle on the floor.

“Ma’am, what is your address?”

“211 Collins Street. Apartment 3.”

“Help is on the way, ma’am,” the operator says calmly. How can she be calm right now? “Is your mother breathing?”

“Um…” I look at Cybil and see her chest rising and falling. Barely. “Yes, I think so. But she doesn’t look good.”

“I’m going to stay on the phone until the ambulance gets there. While we’re waiting for them, we’re going to try to help her together. Okay?”

“Okay,” I sob.

“Is your mother conscious?”

“Mom, wake up. Can you hear me?” The tears fall freely down my face when she doesn’t respond. “No, she’s not. She mumbled a few minutes ago but now she’s not saying anything.”

“Okay, ma’am. We’re going to try to stimulate her with mild pain. All I need you to do is rub your knuckles into her sternum. That’s the spot in the middle of her chest where her ribs meet. You need to use enough pressure to cause mild discomfort. Do you think you can do that?”