But…but why? How? Marina replied, rocking back and forth in place, her arms wrapped around her knees.

I can help you, if youll let me. I want to. My name is Francesca. Who are you?

Marina stuttered, taking three attempts just to utter her own name. Ma – Ma – Marina.

Francesca patted her shoulder with a sage smile. Well, Marina, we have a lot of work to do.

They disposed of the mans body, Francesca doing most of the work as Marina stumbled along in a dazed stupor. It was from that moment on that Francesca took her under her wing to help her…or so it appeared.

Marina was thrilled at first. Shed found someone to take her in and help her. She moved in with Francesca almost immediately and gave up the drugs and drinking. That was when the trouble began. And the blackmail.

It didnt take long before Marina began to wonder who Francesca was, what she did, and where all her money came from. Marina soon found out.

Francesca was a drug dealer. A major drug dealer, as a matter of fact. She was both highly feared and revered in the circles of the criminal underworld. Francesca had saved Marina, but for a reason: to force her into selling drugs for her.

Marina tried to refuse, and Francesca would just laugh and remind her of all the torture equipment she owned that she wouldnt hesitate to use on Marina.

So Marina found herself in the streets nearly every night, dealing to kids spending their allowances on the illegal substances, as well as every form of junkie imaginable.

She hated it – almost as much as she hated Francesca. She felt she was dealing death and accepted blood money. Marina knew for a fact that Francescas drugs often werent pure and contained deadly substances that would likely easily kill the user. Francesca didnt care; she got a perverse kick out of the fact, sometimes doctoring the drugs before sending them out. Of course, that was a rare occurrence, considering a dead client cant spend any more money.

One day Marina had had enough and attempted to put her foot down. The beating she received was enough to shut her up. Three broken ribs got the point across.