Crank (Crank 1)

He drove east of town, all the way out in the desert past Mustang.

After a couple of snorts, he was all hands, all over me.

When I told him to stop, he said, “It’s a long walk back,

even if you don’t get lost. Anyway we both know what kind

of a girl you are.”

That stung, but not much. All I could do was ask for more

crank so maybe I could halfway enjoy it. I didn’t. He was dirty.

Smelly like he hadn’t showered in days.

And after he started, he got mean.

He did things to me—terrible things, I’ve still got the scars—

things no sane person would ever do. Of course,

he wasn’t exactly sane.

Afterward, neither was I.

Now, You Might Think

an experience like that

would serve as a stern

warning, make a person

do a quick about-face and

sprint in the other direction.

Didn’t happen like

that for Robyn.

Didn’t happen like

that for me.

Before I Met the Monster

But Now Nothing

Problem Number One: School

Getting up in the morning,

was it only moments after finally falling

into a state of semisleep?

Finding clean clothes