Speaker 1: What's up, everyone, and welcome to another episode of the
Epstein Chronicles. In this episode, we're picking up where we
left off with the Virginia Roberts memoir The Billionaires Playboy Club.
I turned seventeen that summer and had accumulated a string
of exotic destinations that I had traveled to in such
a short time. I was given more makeup and a
pair of diamond earrings from Jeffrey. Gulayne only wished me
a happy day, wondering at times if she felt threatened
by Jeffrey in my closeness. We went to the island
after we left NYC, and I asked if Sarah would
be meeting us, mentioning it had been a while since
we had last seen her. He said he had some
bad news about her, expecting the worst, thinking she had
gotten hurt or something. I was astounded when Jeffrey told
me that she had been sent to his island with
one of his friends for a couple of days, and
when the housekeepers were cleaning her room, they found a
stash of cocaine left out carelessly in her bathroom. He
said he had no choice but to let her go
attics with no respect for themselves or his wishes had
no leeway. In Jeffrey's book, he didn't mind that I
dabbled in drugs every once in a while, as long
as I never brought them along with us on any trips,
except for my Xanax, which he didn't mind because it
was pharmaceutical and most of all wouldn't cause them trouble
being a legal narcotic. Sarah took it too far when
she crossed international borders with an illegal drug, risking her
welfare and almost causing Jeffrey public attention. She lost her
apartment and contacts in the acting world, only hearing from
acquaintances once in a while that she was sinking deeper
and deeper into the black hole of addiction. It was
sad to see to find out, as always, I did
like her. At the island, Glaine had just recently obtained
that her helicopter pilot's license and wanted to get in
some practice airtime, and flew Jeffrey and I to Saint
John's where we picked up Alexandria Cousteau, the granddaughter of
the inventor of the scuba tank and underwater explorer Jack Cousteau.
Golaine was out to set up a fright in the air,
but it was all talk. She was actually an impressive pilot,
still a daredevil, though she got our kicks out of
hearing us fret on the ear Muff's intercoms. Jeffrey made
it clear that Alexandria as a guest and when I
told her to adhere to her if she wanted a massage,
which I obliged her with several times during our first meeting.
It was Jeffrey who instigated that her and I reenact
as lovers in lesbian acts of foreplay and penetration. I
couldn't imagine a girl of such high prospects lowering herself
to something of Jeffrey's standards, but I later found out
through Jeffrey that he donated money to her continuous exploration
into marine life and habitats. She had followed in her
family's footsteps, all of them involved in marine biology in
some way or another. We actually got along really well.
She was a real decent girl and loved talking about
her passion everything underneath the water's surface. When I wasn't
busy giving massages to everyone around and I would hang
out together. Often we would go swimming in the crystal
clear pool of ocean that the Caribbean had to offer.
Once we swam out so far, not paying attention to
our location, and were carried out to see by the current.
We took turns on the back of each other, taking
breaks against the strong ocean tide. It was almost possibility
that we nearly drowned out there if it weren't for
some guys on a fishing boat for the day. When
they caught us in their view. They picked us up
and brought us back to the island, where we were
reprimanded by a worry Jeffrey in Galaine to first of all,
let someone know where we are going at all times,
and never to lose sight of the shore will out
for a swim. After that learning experience, I took their
heat and proceeded with caution. I had a newfound respect
for the ocean and its mysteries. Having such a love
of the water as a guest made Jeffrey want to
explore parts of the Caribbean he had never seen before.
The Next morning, we were met by a scuba instructor
in Saint James and given a few lessons on how
to get the gear and to use it, and more
tips like how to descend slowly to the ocean floor
as to not cause blood clots, as well as visual
hand signals to communicate underwater. It was so exhilarating beneath
the water's surface, no voices to listen to, only the
enchanting sites to take in. We explored the surrounding reef
and found a large squid, many of the sea urchins,
and magnificent colored coral that housed as many of the
rich variety of local species of fish. It was such
a great site to take in, holding a permanent mental
picture of those adventures to carry in my head for
all times. We all had such a great time that
Jeffrey hired the same scuba instructor to come out the
next day to scuba dive the safer parts around his island.
We got bored quickly, with not so much to see
but seaweed and fish here and there. It didn't take
long for Glene decided for all of us to explore
other numerous locations by boat. Jeffrey needed a bit of
convincing at first, and the instructor was quick to assure
him that he knew his way well around the waters.
Of course, he would say that he was getting paid
a hell of a lot of money to do this
in the first place, why not extended a few more hours.
The clear water glistened and the tropical array of marine
life was on display as we wanted to stop at
so many places, but you could see as beautiful as
it was, it could be equally dangerous. It took so
long that we had to veer away from many desirable spots.
Finally we found a good place that the scuba instructor
thought was safe. He buttied us up into pairs and
we jumped off the back of the boat into the
crystal lock with blue waters, beginning our descent slowly into
the darker regions of the ocean's floor. We were situated
on open water with a cavern of reefs to venture
in and around down below. It seemed to be quite
a choice to scuba in one that our guide said
he wasn't familiar with, but to alleviate his board clientele
deemed safe to swim around. It was Jeffrey and the
guy together Gleayne and Emmy, and I was paired up
with Alexandria. Myles. The houseman came with us and stayed
on the boat just in case something went wrong, and
lucky he did. We were all too far under water
to hear his alarming screams of distress. When shadows lurking
in the murky distance started appearing closer and closer, Glaine
actually looked frightened for once as she gave us a
signal to start ascending upwards, reminding us by holding her
ears not to go up quick or, as we previously
warned before, we could pop a blood vessel in our
brain and hemorrhage to death. Not a very lovely image,
but neither was getting torn apart by sharks. Those giant
shadows became clearer and clearer, and soon enough we could
recognize their indistinct species as a terrifying and more aggressive
breed of sharks. The hammerhead grabbing myles hand. I was
the last one ahead of the guide to get on
the boat. Imagine the worst as I waited behind Emi
and Alexandria, who were the next to follow Jeffrey and Glaane.
I was in too much shock to scream or cry.
I just told myself I had to stay calm and
get out of this alive. Unlucky for us, we found
out later that we were in their breeding territory and
being sent a clear message that we were soon to
be on the menu to their feeding frenzy. We all
felt like we had cheated death, and I know I
wasn't the only one in my heart that was still
beating out of my chest. When we headed back to
Jeffrey's island, Jeffrey was pale as his designer sheets and
looked like he had aged another ten years. In his
such scared state, Glayne took the heat off herself, even
barely taking a notice of beforehand, and decided to poke
fun at all of us frantically scurrying to get out
of the water. It was just her nature, as I
had never seen her move so quickly either. We got
back to the island and collapsed our fatigued bodies in
our own beds for a long nap. Freshened up and
much more relaxed, we regaled our horrendous story again over day,
this time and laughter. The following afternoon, Glaanne piloted all
of us in the helicopter to Saint John's Airport and
we said goodbye to Alexandra, where we all parted ways.
I met her a few more separate times in Palm
Beach at Jeffrey's mansion, but she wasn't a regular of his,
probably not as easy as the troubled girls were at
a bribe. Throughout the remainder of the quickly passing year,
I was on the constant move with Jeffrey, attending various
dinner parties, mostly with other esteem billionaires and widely acclaimed scientists.
Jeffrey likes to surround himself with the most brilliant and
powerful minds, filling his little black book with some of
the most esteemed and even infamous people in today's wealthy society.
It was during those intellectual gatherings that my body was
also put on the banquet menu, but this time for
a powerful senator, George Mitchell, and another Nobel Prize winning
scientist whose name would be mentioned, but for all the
life of me I can no longer remember. They would
be only some of the recognizable figures of the high
society that became added to my list of clientele. Of course,
being introduced to for a lot more than just a
client of a massage as an amusement to Jeffrey's associates,
I also knew my place was to entertain, but not
to every desired content. I was to show them a
good time, but not the way I would have to
use technique an effort for Jeffrey, the very teachings from
Jeffrey himself, or my tutor, as he liked to so
eloquently put it, consistently being used and adored for the
likeliness of my youthful looks. I was becoming very accustomed
to my lifestyle with Jeffrey, never really relaxing into it,
but just accepting this as being as good as it's
ever going to get for me. I didn't think I
should be complaining. Wasn't I being offered a life in
exchange for servitude. Just letting the signs of my anxiety
and depression pass me by while I blanketed them with
my pills, suffocating under a blanket of pain is all
I was really doing. I spent Christmas and the New
Year's holiday with Jeffrey in NYC, who doesn't celebrate the
occasion as he's of Jewish descent, not that he was
a religious man anyway. I never even saw him celebrate
Hanukah either. We firstly stayed at his ranch in Santa
Fe for a week, then left for a long plane
trip to Paris, where all suffered jet lag for the
next twenty four hours. We all stayed in the Grand
Hotel with a view of the Champsalise. Emmy and I
shared a room and with her gifted ability to make
new contacts in just a few hours, she brought out
a Jada share on the rooftop at nighttime while we
were overlooking the lit up Eiffel Tower. We never got
really close as buddies, but we both knew what we
were indebted to and I felt each other sorrow. All
four of us went out shopping at Chanelle dnng Ralph
Lauren and many other little exclusive boutiques. The following afternoon.
As a gift, Jeffrey bought me a white terry cloth
goose feathered sofa and had it sent back to my
apartment in Florida, and bought some new tapestries to have
sent back to Santa Fe for his ranch. We also
visited his up and coming Paris apartment. It was a
modern typical flat being refurbished, and we went to see
how it was looking. Jeffrey liked the fuss about every
detail and harassed the builders about their work. Changing last
minute details at a whim days and many croissants later,
we left for Spain feeling bloated and sleepy. All right, folks,
we're gonna wrap up this episode here and in the
next episode we're gonna pick up where we left off.
All of the information that goes with this episode can
be found in the description box. What's up, everyone, and
welcome to another episode of the Epstein Chronicles. In this episode,
we're going to pick up where we left off with
Virginia Roberts memoir, The Billionaire's Playboy Club, Days and many
croissants later, we left Spain feeling bloated and sleepy. We
only stayed in Spain for the afternoon, going to see
another astounding Moroccan castle for Jeffrey to replicate at one
of his many mansions. It was only a short plane
ride to Tangier, Africa for more castle hopping. We arrived
at the historic landmark and the only five star hotel
in the Tangier called El Menza in the village a
villa Novelle. The city and outskirts were still very hostile
at the time, females being warned not to walk the
streets alone and not to leave the house after dark,
or to be at risk of being raped or worse.
When we got to the room, it was oozing with
every expected bit of extravagance that a luxurious historical palace
should offer, until I was greeted with a pile of
monkey poo in the very middle of my bed. Not
a happy camper, I called Jeffrey, Glen and Emmy into
my adjoining room and they all had quite a good
laugh at my expense. Within a moment's notice of a complaint,
call to the front desk, and we had an attendant
cleaning up my bed linen. The cleaner noticed that the
window was still opened. He warned not to leave it
ajar at night time, just in case another monkey wanted
to make himself comfortable in my quarters. Gallainne joke that
maybe I should keep it open. I might find a
suitable husband before I get any older. Always the instigator
of a good joke, but unable to take one herself.
She didn't like it when I poked back at her,
and it was more in her recent taste of men,
since she loved to brag about her rendezvous with various lovers.
Once she came back giddy as a schoolgirl, with an
explosion of news. With all the build up and excitement
in her voice, you'd think was the next Crown princess.
But she had given George Clooney a blowjob in the
bathroom at some random event, and she never let that
one down. We all went to explore the town surrounding
Moroccan castles and meet their royalty that lived in them.
Jeffrey's personal interior designer met us at the residences. They
walked around hurriedly scribbling notes into their clipboards and whispering
between themselves. The palaces were historically unique and beautiful, but
I wondered how could they live so grandeur behind these
walls when they lived in a city of such poverty
stricken squabble Beggars line the streets. People could just go
missing and no one could care, and you heard of
barbaric murders happening every night. Against the advice of the
palace attendant and Jeffrey's wishes, I decided to take a
stroll one afternoon, mainly just to take photos of an
exotic Africa and do some shopping in the village markets,
but I ended up being intrigued by a group of
young children playing in the street. When I was noticed
watching them, about fifteen of them came up to me
and began to beg for money and food. I was
overtaken by the poor, hungry children and felt sad for
them all, and wished I could help out somehow. When
the tide of kids washed away and the street went empty,
I was overcome with intrigue at these two little boys brothers,
I found out later on, and their only toy was
an empty can that they were kicking to each other
in the middle of the street. Intelligent kids, they were
able to speak three different languages, including English, and I
was interested to ask them about life here. They didn't
seem to notice or be bothered by their poverty stricken lives.
They told me about their school and their parents, and
I thought I had just heard the saddest story ever.
But they were accustomed to living like that, and I
had been so accustomed to my degrading lifestyle for so long.
I was compelled to empty out the contents of my purse,
giving them over two thousand dollars in US currency. A
passerby snapped a photo of the kids and myself to
take home as a personal souvenir before they rushed home
to probably show their parents the money. I told Jeffrey
later on of my good deed, and he couldn't believe
I'd given away my money so carelessly. He told me
I had set up their parents with enough money to
feed and shelter their family for a year. Wasn't that
a good thing? I couldn't believe it. Not that I
was well off or anything close to it, but to
realize how lucky I was and not have compassion for
the lesser off, especially children of a third world country,
I wouldn't be human anymore. Then again, what did I
expect from someone who could numerously steal another man's for
the use of his own sexual pleasure with great ease.
We went out to lunch the following day with Jeffrey's
team of designers to wrap things up, and after Jeffrey's
afternoon massage, he went to the palace to have a nap.
When I was all alone, I thought I'd go see
the culture of the local unique markets again and this
time buy some trinkets to bring home. I got the
sight seeing and took pictures of legs of lamb hung
over the blood drenched doorway, over people's homes as to
warn off evil spirits, and the ghettos were the local
villagers called home. I walked into many of the market
stalls and saw the most peculiar antiques, such as weaponry
with the blood of its last victim stained on its
sharp blades, and body pieces of various animals for the
use of religious sacrifice. I was more interested in the
different culture and respecting their ancient way of life with interest,
instead of squirming like a tourist and getting grossed out.
I thought it was so educational and enthralling. In fact,
I ended up buying a few official trinkets to have
sent to my apartment in Palm Beach. Not to say
that I wasn't looking forward to getting back to the
luxuries of Western civilization. It was a bit like camping,
fun and adventurous, but as equally dangerous and thrilling. When
we left for the final destination of our trip, I
was looking forward to eating normal food again, not one
to stray for foreign dishes. Ah'mor of a cheeseburger and
pizza kind of girl, A true sign of my American heritage.
We landed at Heathrow International Airport and greeted by a
driver that would take us to Glen's townhouse in London
that Jeffrey had recently bought and refurbished as a gift
for Emmy said goodbye at the airport, leaving us to
go to her hometown in the rural countryside nearby to
visit family for a six week holiday from work. It
wasn't a very long drive before we were in the
heart of the city at Gallaine's place. I thought it
was a cheery townhouse that had character and historical pub
in front of it, and cobblestone streets only added a
unique charm to its presence. They were going out for
dinner and invited me along with them, but seeing I
was so exhausted from all the traveling and looking a
bit melancholy, I apologetically declined going out for dinner that evening.
I rather would be talking taking a few pills to
catch up on some needed sleep. Are you sure you're okay,
Glene asked as she showed me to my room, more
considerate than she normally was, but I assured her that
I was in absolute good health, just tired from all
the recent jet lag. Without another word, she whisked off
downstairs to the car, where Jeffrey was waiting for I
took the liberty to call my parents' house to say
hello and catch up with them, since I hadn't been
home for all of the holiday season this year, always
too busy working. They sounded really happy to hear from me,
and my mom put me on the phone to talk
to my brothers as well. I got to tell them
about my travels abroad and I had some cool tribal
stuff from Africa that I bought for them. They sounded
so proud of me, all of them, and why shouldn't
they be? And everyone's convinced my I was making great
money traveling the world and meeting new faces everywhere I went.
Why should I spoil anyone's delusions, especially mine. I took
my sleeping tablets and had a bath before falling into
a deep and much needed sleep. The next morning, I
was awoken by Glenn Maxwell, who I could tell was
in a chirpy mood by the way she paraded through
my closed door, saying, wake up, sleepyhead, and open the
window shutters to let in the bright sunlight. She had
never done anything like this before, and I knew immediately
something big was happening. She sat down on my bed
as I rolled over for my deep slumber, and I
was able to mutter for an explanation as to why
she was awake so early, besides the fact that it's
ten o'clock in the morning and nearly time for brunch.
We have a big day planned out for you today.
She was waiting for my queue to ask her what
we're doing. When I said, she responded with a convincing enthusiasm,
We're going shopping for a new ensemble. She paused for
a moment to build a suspense before completing her sentence
to go dancing with the Prince of England this evening,
hoping it would be one of the younger generations. I
was disappointed when she told me he was the Duke
of York, Charles's younger brother Andrew. I looked at her
with a fake surprise. Look what I had used on
many occasions in my time with them to give the
impression of excitement. What wow, I exclaimed, with my gifted
acting ability. It's a sad realization, but I had grown
more accustomed to seeing people for their significance rather than
the good qualities they possessed, and was able to grin
and bear the thought of what I expected lay in
store for me. Glene and I left shortly thereafter for
many lanes of designer shops to choose from in London.
Her pep talks to prepare me for my duties towards
Royalty went on and on, giving me the obscure impression
I was something of importance, at least for more than
in an evening. Make sure you're bubbly and energetic. Nobody
wants a horse was one of the cheap tools she
instilled me with. Who knows where this could lead for
you was another. As the day grew shorter, my anxiety
only heightened. Anticipating the Prince's arrival and unable to decide
on an outfit, I picked out three. Our last stop
of the day was Burberries for a nice handbag to
compliment our chosen attire. We got back to our townhouse
with still a couple hours to spare to get ready.
After trying on all three outfits and many mental debates
with myself, later I decided on the pink mini tea
and dazzling pair of denims with horses embroidered into a pattern.
It seemed a lot more my style an age group
rather than the other two older looking, sophisticated dresses I
had picked out. I told myself I was going dancing
out a club, not to one opera. As most young
girls can be during their body changes into womanhood. I
felt awkward, you know, big feet, freckles and body hair
and unwonted places. There are things you just don't want
when you're seventeen and you see these iconic billboards of
what femininity is supposed to represent, and you just don't
fit into that picture, never feeling what we all are
already absolutely perfect. By the time I had got ready,
I was a nervous wreck, but trying to keep cool
on the outside was an act. I thought it'd be
a good idea to take a few xanas before the
evening unraveled and my anxiety went through the roof. Jeffrey
and I were sitting in the lounge room downstairs waiting
for Glaine to finish getting ready. The room was silent,
only stillness in the air. I stared at a mural
painted onto the wall that I was facing. It was
an interesting piece of artwork in great detail. It illustrated
a happy looking family sitting on a bench overlooking upon
that resided on a large piece of land with a
beautiful home displayed. There were also hunting hounds in the
hunters chasing a game of fox, like the notorious English
hunt pieces throughout history. Jeffrey took notice of my enchantment
into the picture, and in a hush voice, proceeded to
tell me that it was a portrait of Glenn's childhood,
the part that she could be proud of. I never
realized how prominent her family's history was in England. Apparently,
as Jeffrey's attest. Her father was born of poor Jewish
descent in Czechoslovakia, most of his family being killed upon
Nazi invasion in nineteen thirty nine. Fleeing to join the
British Army as a young man, he changed his name
a few times and made a lot of contacts in
the field. After the war, a newfound Robert Maxwell when
into publishing, using his army contacts to establish a business
initially built upon publishing scientific books from occupied Germany. In time,
Maxwell acquired several British newspapers, among them The Deli Mirror,
countering his wits against the likes of Rupert Murdoch along
the way. However, whilst constructing his publishing empire, Maxwell compiled
astronomical debts, and his equivocal financial dealings attracted the attention
of governing authorities that judged them not to be looking
out for his company's best interest, and in the end
it transpired that Robert Maxwell had been using proceeds from
his employees' pension funds to meet his financial debts, ruining
the future of thousands of employees. Once an esteem member
of Parliament and publishing mogul, Robert's body was found floating
in the Atlantic Ocean after he was found to be
missing from his yacht, the Lady Glaane, named after his
favorite child, while cruising the Canary Islands in nineteen ninety one.
Jeffrey went on to tell me that when her father died,
she was inconsolable and in a very bad state. He
picked her up from the trenches of despair and took
her under his wing, and it's there she stayed comfortable
ever since. Took Elaine. His peculiar need to have so
many women around, even his taste in younger than legal ones,
didn't seem unconventional to her. It was her own father
who was deemed a womanizer and even took a second
wife while still married to Glane's mother. I would have
never guessed this care free, spirited and vivacious woman have
ever endured such sorrows. I couldn't help but looking her
in a different light from then on, but not letting
her know that I knew to avoid any altercations between us.
All Right, we're gonna wrap this one up right here,
and in the next episode dealing with the topic, we're
gonna pick up where we left off. All of the
information that goes with this episode can be found in
the description box. What's up, everyone, and welcome to another
episode of the Epstein Chronicles. In this episode, we're gonna
pick up where we left off with Virginia Roberts memoir
The Billionaire's Playboy Club. Sunny spring days melted away, the
ice off the frozen streets of New York, and the
harsh winter winds began to gently blow away the dead leaves,
making the cage trees appear to have some form of
life again. I hated the cold winters there. It would
only add to my depression being locked indoors. Give me
hot Florida day, blistering in the sun, where I can
swelter by a cool pool and sip cocktails with pieces
of fruit and little oriental umbrellas floating around. What a
vision of solace. Looking around my extravagantly decorated medieval room,
I was reminded of the desolation that I was more
than accustomed to, knowing it wouldn't be a long time
before I was summoned again for another ritualistic occurrence. In
fornicating with my master, I hardly bothered to leave my
assigned chambers, scarcely being sent home for a moment's break.
I just accepted my fate as I predicted. The innercom
buzzed momentarily, and I heard Golayne's voice come over and
a request to meet them in Jeffrey's study, not not call.
I would often meet him there first so we could
tie up some unfinished business before heading to the dungeon
or what was thought to be the massage room. Making
my way down the hall, I had a neary feeling
wash over me, as if I had several pairs of
eyes on me watching my every move. A cold chill
moved up my spot and I had to move my
thoughts elsewhere. Too easy behind these walls to succumb to
my fearsome anxieties. I punched in number one once inside
the elevator, and it took me down to the floor
where Jeffrey and the surprised guests were waiting with anticipation
behind closed doors. I cracked open the heavy wooden doors,
and a familiar face revealed itself. Definitely not expected or
pre warned on my part, but I already knew what
he was there for, or at least why I was
called down to the study. Prince Andrew had that notorious
cheesy grin slapped over his face as he looked me
up and down, like a shiny new car on display,
and he was about to take it for a test drive.
Glayne led me to the decadent sofa he was lounging
on and twirled me around to give him a good
look over, before sitting me down on his lap like
a show pony. I knew exactly how they wanted me
to be paraded around. With the last of my dignity
long lost, I had nothing more to lose. It was
easy to give them the reaction they desired. All I
had to do was pretend to be unentertained by their
lewde gestures, and when Andrew cut my breast with a
doll made in his image, I only giggled away. Golayne
wanted to take a picture of the bizarre scene, and
even got Johanna, another one of Jeffrey's so called personal assistants,
to come sit on the other knee for a snapshot.
Given the impression girls couldn't stay away from Randy Andy
many crew jokes later, and I was asked to show
Andrew to the upstairs massage room. I'm sure he already
knew where it was from previous visits, but I led
him the way anyways, as if he was now my
guest of honor. Entering into the dim room, it took
a few minutes from my eyes to adjust to the darkness,
but knowing my way around the room was enough to
find the shower. I turned on the steam room and
began to undress myself. Andrew followed my lead and disrobed,
throwing his attire to the floor. I wanted to run
and hide, feeling his hands touch me again, but my
servitude for Jeffrey kept me there. Getting out of his stronghold,
I turned my attention to the steam filling up and
tried to turn his attention to the marble bench, where
I suggested he'd take a seat while I rubbed his feet.
By the look in his eyes, I knew he could
care less about a foot massage. His real desire were
being shown by the arousal his body was forming. He
indicated where he wanted me to touch him and how
I fulfilled his CD requests, but only just. There was
no pleasure in this for me. The only thing I
derived from this event was to sing further into my
slumber of depression. I couldn't remember a time when I
felt I needed for anything other than my body or
amusements thereof. After his massage was thoroughly conducted, I couldn't
wait to get back to my room for another shower.
Sitting on the floor of my shower under the harsh
spray of water, I scrubbed my body where he touched me.
Feeling abhorrent and ashamed at what I become, I let
the water wash away the grime. As the days progressed
into nights and the knights followed a trail of destructive months,
my outlook on life had diminished into utter sadness. I
had lost my spark and my ability to look like
I could handle the abusive state of affairs I had
drifted into, sinking deeper into the euphoric state of being
on coke and pills. Not only was my mentality dwindling away,
but also my looks. I sure as hell didn't feel
like a seventeen year old anymore, and now I wasn't
looking like one. My eyes had dark circles underneath them
from not sleeping, and my bones protruded from my skinny
waistline in my chest. This made Jeffrey apprehensive in keeping
me around as often, and before I had moments notice
I was out of money and looking for a job.
When I questioned them what was happening, he told me
I wasn't the same girl he had first met some
time ago now and looked like I needed a break
from working so much. I'll call you next time I'm
in town, was the last thing he said to me.
Going back to the average teenager's life was more of
a harder transition than I would have ever thought. Jeffrey
stopped paying my expensive rent, and I was forced to
get off the drugs and look for a real job
to feed and shelter. TJ and I. It was much
harder than it sounded, but I was craving this in
every possible way. Even though a week's wages for working
a full time job as a waitress didn't come close
to the money I had made in a couple of
hours working for Jeffrey, I was happier than I had
been in a long time. I made some friends at
my new job and found my duties to be easy
and pleasant. I was good at making customers smile and
keeping them happy before the waitress. That made the most
of the tips for the night, which in turn made
my coworkers happy since we'd all split the tips at
the end of the week. For the first time in
a long time, I had boys my age hitting on me,
and not that I was ever taken aback, but there
were attempts. It reminded me of how it felt to
be around a younger crowd. I missed so much of
what I couldn't get back, and the more I tasted it,
the more I remembered how to smile. The relationship between
TJ and I began to falter in a way that
was beyond reconciliation. Fights became physical, and I saw sides
to him that only pushed me away more. He refused
to look for work to help pay bills, and he
became utterly frustrated, not having his usual cocktail of assorted
drugs to keep him from feeling anything at all. He
didn't like the fact that I was growing inside and
thinking beyond his elusive world. I had gone through too
much to accept another form of abuse and degradation, making
that point very clear to him by kicking him out
of my apartment back to live with his parents. I
felt liberated like never before. I kept up with my rent,
and I cleaned my act up, and rolling in a
yoga course and keeping my focus on staying fit and
healthy became my only source of enjoyment. I was free
and living for myself. While doing the grocery shopping. One evening,
I couldn't help but stop at a local pet store
and fell in love with the furry pooch. She was
a Japanese chow chow and a bundle of fur that
more resembled a baby brown bear than a dog. I
took her home with me and instantly she became my
best friend. We went for several walks a day, and
she bore the brunt of my many tear filled conversations.
She was my loyal companion who understood more than anyone
had before. All I really need was someone to listen,
and funny enough, it was her that filled the hole.
Nearly three months had gone by and not a word
from Jeffrey or Golaine. With TJ out of the picture,
now all I had to concentrate on was work, my parents,
my brothers, and of course my dog Mary Jane. I
was going to family night dinners and bonfires again. My
older brother was getting married to an amazing woman in
a few weeks, and I got to be a part
of their beautiful ceremony, small details of life's journey that
I had already missed so much of, and now being
able to smile at the simple things day in day out,
really seemed to put the real value of life into perspective.
For me. Everything seemed to be working out for itself,
and I was really happy until he came back. TJ
thought he'd come over my place one evening while I
was sitting at home just watching TV. Obviously mentally distorted
from whatever choice of drugs he was smoking that night,
he screamed down my apartment complex, going mad, and scaring
my neighbors. I felt like I had no choice but
to let him inside. I tried talking to him as
a good friend would, just wanting him to see what
he was doing to himself and what he had become
part of me. Still loved him and took pity on
watching him spiral downwards. Taking him back into my life
was not a decision I made wholeheartedly, but with something
I did out of guilt and what I thought was loyalty.
He moved his clothes back to my place, which was
all he ever owned anyways, and we tried to pick
up the broken pieces. TJ, still being badly addicted to
many drugs, I had to be very careful where I
kept my jewelry and expensive items. I decided to rent
out a space at a local spot and store my
cherished items away, just taking the necessary precautions, I thought,
still not working. I knew how he was scraping by money,
and I didn't agree with it. TJ was a known
thief and had been caught several times attempting to steal
things even as stupid as DVD's, or PS two or
Xbox games from a local blockbuster. He even stole from
his parents, his sister, and his brother, and would probably
steal a piece of candy from a five year old
if he knew that it would get him his next fix.
He hated the change in myself, realizing I couldn't be
brought back down by his ways, but knowing I was
still stuck by his side and defended him from anything
that would hurt him, wanting to believe that he still
wanted to show the bits of human nature left in
his empty heart. Unable to stand and see me do
well for myself, he contemplated a way to try and
bring me down. After a busy shift one night, he
retaliated with another show of control. I had just finished
up cleaning my area and setting out the tables to
be ready for the next day, and I went to
the bar to hang up my apron and put my
night's tips in the tipple on the counter by the
beer tap. On one of his drug induced rampages, he
stormed into the restaurant where I was working and started
to pick a fight with me. I knew he was
off his face when he started accusing me of sleeping
with my manager on shift that evening. Having no bias
or ground to stand on in his attempt to make
me look bad in front of everyone. I just laughed
him off as a drunk idiot who needed to go
home and sleep off the night's repercussions. Although I was
fuming inside that he embarrassed me, but I still made
excuses for him and told my boss I had to
leave early to bring him home. All right, folks, we're
gonna wrap up right here, and in the next episode
dealing with the topic, we're gonna pick up where we
left off. All of the information that goes with this
episode can be found in the description box.