Ballerina

by Jimmy Esmaeili

  I don’t want to clarify on thing: I am agreeing some of the tactics being used in the drug war ineffectual and misplaced. I often read about cases where government agents barge into an individual’s house (and sometimes the wrong house!). To arrest an individual drug user whose only crime was to indigent and illegal drug? Why drug lords binging millions of dollars’ worth of drugs into this country and ignored. Has anyone considered that the reasons that people a committed a crime was because they were on drugs in the first place—legal or not? That they weren’t necessarily committing a crime to get illegals drug, but the drugs themselves caused a violent behavior (which would not magically go away if the drugs were legal) which lead them to committing a crime—something that would have not happened if they had not taken drugs? In actually, crime will rise when drugs are legal because more people will be taking drugs. Crimes is high in high—drugs use areas not because people are committing a crime to get drugs, but the influence of the drugs made them more inclined to commit a crime. People are claiming that there are more good people than bad around us. So, are we addicts’ parts of good or bad? First you need to know what the truth is. As an addict struggles through the disaster in their life left by drug use they have many obstacles. After the physical withdrawals end you can see them scarred mentally and physically too. Look in our country, just in New York, heroin and cocaine addicts suffer from tremendous medical problems. Most drug addicts are unemployed criminals. Crime committed by drug addicts in a major problem. The first question to address is how many drug dealers are there? Under the law, we drug users and drug dealers make money for the politicians, and they make money from us. As they make money from the petrol and their companies! But the difference here is, the petrol is liquid and we are solid. Why? Because they named us as “Rock solid”. The “Master” of puppets is a reference to drugs. “Chop your breakfast on a mirror”, “The Master of puppets is pulling your strings, twisting your mind and smashing your dreams”. Drugs are the Master while the drug user is the puppet. I believe the depression working on all different levels. There should be many different types and levels of depressive illness! People of all ages, genders, ethnicities, cultures and religions can suffer from clinical depression. Even soldiers often do some disreputable things under peer pressure that they avoid talking about. This is includes drinking to excess, whoring, drug-taking, raping, bullying and terrorizing, hazing, killing and raping children and torturing. I am 32 years old.

  I used to be a wonderful ballerina and today dying in suspicious circumstances. I feel kind of cold a mysterious and perhaps super natural stranger. I have after failed attempt to find my life which nearly ended my career into this harsh battling of survival, crushing the times to stand up my feet for day to another. That was small step to a loco destiny however. I looked at myself and then cried. I lost too many weights and my thick lips became dark blue. Too thin that I could even see the veins how they came out of my skins. I was panting and took a deep sigh whole from my throat. I looked at the white stains on my nails. This is one o’clock in the afternoon. I’m crumpling in myself and waiting in the corner of this alley to get the drug. I’m floating helplessly in the corner of this alley, trapped in one thing that however, far I go; I cannot escape what I was once. I’m stumbling around and at the end of my tether. I’m sitting here and keen to rake the chance of making it to work out. A red convertible BMW with three black, curly hairs and pretty athletic which there was bunch of gold necklace hanging around their necks arrived at the place. They parked their car around the block. Ray gave a plastic bag to one his gangs and tells him to deliver it to me. “Go from behind. Take the alley and go around. Don’t let her to see you”. I had my face onto the street. The guy very easy got behind me and with a law voice said to me: “Don’t turn back. Just stay cool. Take this and get the hell out of here”. I was scared but, when I saw the package, I took it and fast got my way across the street to the park. I opened the plastic bag, stuffed some of the contents into a pipe, struck a match and drew the smoke deep into my lungs the stuff went right to my head. I let out a soft sigh, and then I pulled a cigarette out of my purse and fired it up. It hadn’t been the best of days, since she (Sandra) left me standing in haze. I know it’s not so easy, I know she would say I’m sleazy. But I love it this way, and I hoped she’d pleased me anyway! I still can’t believe that I found a woman who turned my life around. But she suddenly left me alone, pin me down, on the ground. I squinted and saw him bolt across the street. For a second I felt the world was spinning. My mouth was dried and my body was just so weak a bid of sweat ran down my back as I lifted my head and wiped. I needed to pull myself together and then I ran after him and watched him he was about to leave there. I whirled my head around. I went towards him, smiling from ear to ear. I hugged him very friendly. As he saw I reached into my purse, pulled out my loaded gun, his eyes for a second went wide with horror. I didn’t want to waste a minute to blow him away. I just put the gun loaded with bullets into his mouth and pulled the trigger. Bang, bang, bang, bang. His body convulsed as he bled to death. He was dying, and I was glad. Everyone’s sponges and we all absorb. We’re all judged for what we take in, but remembered for what we spit out. Now I pull the trigger, and we’ll all know what you’re about. There will be no doubt if you scream or shout. Now some of us we live in the wake, but some of us are wide awake. It was just my decision, pull the trigger. Your mind will unleash, because all know deaths got you on a short leash. Your mind is a bank and I want to breach. They said go eat them pussies, but it was just a fancy feast. Pull the trigger and see the real you, but never do it in blue. I saw you on your car’s door and you wanted in. I didn’t want to be your last sin. I don’t want to see you on the streets again. So, I pulled the trigger and I felt my release. I didn’t want any to see your matrimony. At least I didn’t want to make it just like a phony. Now I’m going to send you to that limbo. There you have always belonged to. I was letting loose a sigh of relief because he was dying, and I was crazy enough to kill him. The ambulance was there ten minutes later, in plenty of time to keep Ray from bleeding to death. There, he was bleeding, he already was fucked up. They just put him into the ambulance, but not before someone on the street called the police and someone else had called a friend at a newspaper.

  Gunshots sound

  screaming cries

  (Look he is in pain)

  Head spinning

  vision fading

  (Why is it so dark?)

  Blood flowing

  heartbeat slows

  (He deserves to die)

  Paramedics

  try—no use

  he’s gone

  flat line

  Dozen took to the street and watching. I ran into the back of the car, but his bodyguards kept walking towards me. I was so scared and I tried to hide by lying on the ground. I could only shoot one of them, but the other one got too close to me. I was prepared for the final battle. I closed my eyes and he opened the fire until the bullets ran out. The last words came out of my mouth that I said; “is he dead”? “Yes he’s dead”. That was a voice came out through the crowds. When I looked in that direction, I saw a black woman had one picture showing two young boys carrying in her hand. I have seen many peoples that they have tear in eyes when they are too happy. This is natural for all. She had an emotional feeling and over-whelmed with happiness. Such feelings that provoked moisture in tear-ducts located under her eye. Tear a drop of the saline, watery fluid continually secreted by the lacrimal gland between the surface of the eye and the eyelid, serving to moistened and lubricate. She was crying out loud, and all she talked about was how excited she was! She was screaming and yelling; “yes, he’s dead, he’s dead”. Now just sleep my child you did your job which many people wished they would have done it long before you. God bless your soul my child.

  Suddenly, while I was looking forward I saw a brilliant bright light, almost like looking directly at the sun
. There was a standing figure in the light, shaped like a normal human being, but with no distinct facial features. It has a feminine presence. The light seemed like it emanated from the figure. Light rays shone all around her. Then I saw my mother’s spirit standing before me. I felt very protected and safe. My mother in the light told me through what I now know to be mental telepathy and welcoming me to join with her. I felt so full of joy and so peaceful. We passed through a long tunnel toward a brilliant light and…………………

  Down among the streets, there is a small alley called Trespassing to Death. If you ever see that place, I warned you, just go through without stopping. No matter how the men and women of that small alley have desperate pleading look and misery faces, no matter how friendly anyone is as you pass along the road, don’t hesitate a moment in that alley.