DARKEST DAZE... (part 3)

Through early morning fog I see
visions of the things to be
the pains that are withheld for me
I realize and I can see...
that suicide is painless
it brings on many changes
and I can take or leave it if I please.

Dazed and numb I waited until I was sure that Matty was asleep.  I crept out the back door and stumbled my way through the cold early morning towards Central Bus station. I had no idea how I must have looked but being early morning there weren't many people around to notice me.

It was still too early for the buses and I had to wait nearly 40 minutes for the first bus to arrive.  The bus station is located on one of Sydney's busiest intersections, a triangle between 5 intersections, one of them being the main road leading from the city to the western suburbs.  It was sitting here that I contemplated many times stepping out onto the road and letting a car or truck end all my pain and humiliation.

The bus station, with it's many interchange sections, was, and still is, a haven for the homeless, spending the night asleep on the metal seats.  Their garbage bags or shopping trolleys filled with their only possessions pushed tight against them.  No one paid any attention to me as I sat miserably huddled on a seat by myself.  I would look at the traffic, torn between throwing myself in front of a vehicle, and then look around me and see the refuse of society, asleep and oblivious to the cruel reality of my world.

I remembered my mothers words, 'no matter how bad you feel, there is always someone in the world worse off than you'.  And here, at the lowest of lows I could look around and understand her words.  So I sat and waited for the bus which eventually arrived.  This was in fact the hardest part of all.  The driver took one look at me ( I had no idea that I was bruised and the back of my head was matted with blood from where I had been bashed against the wall) and refused to take my money.  He just asked if I needed to go to hospital!  I told him, through my tears, that I had friends who would look after me and that's where I was going.

Arriving at Steven's apartment I was met by his wife.  It was not even 7.30 and Steven was still asleep.  Margaret, his wife, took one look at me and held me fast.  It wasn't until then that I realised how badly bruised and physically damaged I was.  She didn't ask any questions but sat me gently down and made me a cup of tea and passed me a bong and marijuana to go with it.  After a while she told me she had run a warm bath and led me there, helping me to remove my clothes.  I will never forget the look on her face as she undressed me and saw my chest and stomach covered in cigarette burns and bruises.

After the bath she came with ointment and carefully applied it to each of the 15 or more cigarette burns, which by now were starting to puss and blister.  I can't describe how I felt.  I was numb with pain, numb with shock and mortified that I had reached such a humiliating position.  My only fears were for my dog Toby who was still back at the house and possibly getting harmed by Matty.  I had no choice leaving him as I honestly believed that had I stayed, when Matty awoke he would have continued physically abusing me.

When Steven finally awoke and I got my story out he asked me what I wanted him to do.  I only wanted the abuse to stop.  I still loved Matty, I still wanted to run a successful parlour and I still  wanted to live the lifestyle I was living.  Steven assured me that I had nothing to worry about anymore but that I had to trust him.  Armed with enough comfort, assurance and totally stoned I let Steven drive me back to the house and leave me there to face Matty alone.

As usual with Matty, when he woke up, sometime around 12pm, he not only had no idea that I had even left, but was totally apologetic and upset with his actions.  He even went out and brought grass from somewhere so we could smoke together.  For the first time I could remember he not only packed the bongs but also took control of the business, answering phone calls, looking after the clients and telling the boys who had come to work that I was feeling sick and to let me be.......I don't think any of them believed him but they needed money so were happy to sit the day in the front room waiting for jobs and not bother me.

However, every time they came through the kitchen to use the bathroom, I was aware of their sympathetic staring and quiet understanding of what had happened during the night.

Shortly after 7pm Steven arrived accompanied by three enormous, Maori thugs.  With out any warning they simply marched through the house and into the kitchen where they grabbed Matty and commenced beating the life out of him.  Unbelievably I was stunned and scared for Matty.  Rushing forward to intervene and try and help Matty, I was held back by one of the heavies and forced to watch Matty getting bashed to within an inch of his life. To his credit he never once made a sound or tried to justify himself, he knew what he had done and he knew he deserved what he was getting.

When it was all over, Steven calmly said that he would be ending the business and we had one month to close up and move out.  He also warned Matty that if he touched me again that they would kill him.  Matty limped upstairs to bed and I spent an hour with Steven, getting lectured on my stupidity for allowing myself to get into these circumstances.  He also promised me that he would always have a place for me to go and money if I wanted to leave Matty.

So basically that was the end of my prostitution and brothel days.  Within two weeks Matty had found a full time job  and with Steven's help I managed to find us a house to rent.  It would be a calm few months.  Months where my lifestyle was compromised completely but months in which I was finally feeling safe......