Journal entry #2
(Tw: child prostitution and abuse mentioned.)
December 6th.
Guess I forgot to put the date last time. It doesn't matter, honestly idk why I'm bothering now.
I didn't find money until late at night when some rich guy in a Porsche pulled up by the club I hang around outside.
He took me to a nice hotel.
Got to sleep in a nice warm bed, had a shower and ate a proper meal.
I feel human again when I get to do that.
It feels nice.
But the price isn't and I am still bruised from his rough hands around my neck.
He liked it when I cried, he liked hurting me. All of them are the same, all men are the same. They like hurting things that look weak and can't fight back.
Sir Augustus taught me that long ago, I hate it, but I can't change it.
In a way I accept it because the pain cleanses me, it makes me whole and pure again.
Takes away the sins I have caused.
At Least is what i tell myself to endure some of the awful pain.
Because if Alex and my mum can't some how forgive me through my penance, I don't think I can keep going.
I worry I will grow up to become a man like them all.
Today I sit writing this in the alleyway behind the club, shivering and hungry.
My "care giver" took away all my money yesterday and kicked me around to let out anger he had about another transaction earlier.
He said I had done poorly and the costumer had complained. But I know that's not true because the costumer didn't drop me off.
I can only hope to steal some food later & one of my alleyway mates shares a blanket with me when they come back.
Til later
-seb age 14.