THAT is why this is just a bit. and, it will be changed, later.
~(Re the picture? What, you really thought I would post a picture of Z so that you could recognize her? Dream on.
See, the thing about Z, is the same as me. Just different. When she got boobs her father, fat Herr, wanted to feel them. She put him in hospital, or killed him, depends on the day you ask, and, actually, does it matter? Z wanted to leave. And she did.
Me, I never got “boobs” but, I did put people in hospital. I am a guy and I don’t like weaks. But she, this “Z” was a person, for me. That is all.
But, life on the streets was hard. So, of course, like so many others, she went underground. It was warm to sleep, but, no good air. The price was €3 per day, cash, in his hand. HE? Was from Romania. Life was easy, or impossible , he would say, So, you got warm , here, €3, now. Of course, Z had watched the non-paying people. They just disappeared. Gone. Simple. Want warm? €3. She always paid, but kept her eyes open, and, one day?
Let me just say this, because I do not know what to say? Z is now my friend. I will do anything to protect her, and I know she will do anything to protect me. So, ye can all fuck off. Thing about Z that she saw? Same thing.
It does not matter.
Z was not born in Thailand. She came here. She escaped here. Carrying history. She was born in Inverness, in Scotland. And, yes, if that is how you define things, she was “crazy”
But, as I have said elsewhere, she was my one true friend.