I did promise I’d continue, didn’t I? *sigh*
Life without Amy was horrible. I was hardy able to get up in the mornings, had no focus during the day, and cried myself to sleep each night, which made getting up in the morning even harder. It was a downwards spiral to which I couldn’t find an escape, and so, after months of tormenting myself, I grabbed back to an old friend that had been waiting for me by pushing cocaine into my veins and at least sleep for a blissful, untormented few hours. It made the world and the work I did tolerable, but everyone near to me saw that I was suffering, that Amy’s loving rod and whip had kept me sane, and so it was not surprise to me or anyone else when madame fired me.
The money I has saved up went fast, the expensive clothes were quickly hocked for a next fix, and everything I had done, everything I had gone through, left me with nothing.
I was 17 and adrift once more, alone.