Changing My Perspective

Hey Friends,

I've been puking all afternoon. Some ladies get morning sickness, but not me--I get all fucking day sickness. I had just taken a few Percocets--you know, to calm the baby--and up they came, thirty seconds later. Thankfully, I missed the toilet when I puked, so I was able to salvage the pills. It was a close one, though! You'd think the baby was trying to tell me something. HA!

On my way back from one of my many trips to the shitter, I heard Starla wailing away like crazy, inside Mama's bedroom. I thought to myself: "Maybe Mama's dead and her body is starting to stink so bad that Starla can't take the smell anymore!" A girl can daydream, can't she? I knew Mama was probably passed out from all the NyQuil she was guzzling. I kept telling her they made stuff for the day time but she said she needed the buzz after all she'd been through, you know, because of the amnesia and her long-lost son Jacob tracking her down.

Anyway, Starla needed a bottle and a diaper change. Unfortunately for me, Cunt Face wasn't around as I normally put her on diaper duty (you know, to make her feel like a real woman and all--I do what I can for the trannies, I really do). So I changed her and made her a bottle in the microwave. I was rocking her to sleep after burping her when the phone rang. I answered it:

"Who the hell is this?"

There was silence on the other end. I asked again:

"Who the hell is this?"

Silence. I don't like being fucked with on the phone--someone was in for it.

"Who the god-damn, motherfuck is this? Speak, you fucking low life." (I got that from Unis, my neighbor. I love recycling insults!)

There was a robotic voice on the other end. It wasn't a bad connection: It was intentional. Someone was disguising their voice and while I loved the sound of the effect (I could use it for a song), I was taken aback by what it said:

"Trasha White, if you know what's good for you, you won't say anything to the cops or the FBI. We're watching you and we will do whatever we must to your family and friends. Don't be stupid."

Click.

This was straight out of a horror movie! I was torn between loving the dramatics and nearly shitting my pants. Someone was watching me--how else would they know about the whole FBI thing, and so shortly after my meeting with Leonard. Cain had eyes and ears everywhere it seemed, not that I'm surprised. I knew what Cain was capable of the moment I met him--I mean, it was him murdering my obese husband PJ that lead me to him in the first place. It was that same danger that drew me to him and it was that same danger that would be the key to my undoing. I had to be smarter than him--I had to be one step ahead...but how? It seemed he had the upper hand...

I knew I had some work to do and I would need Leonard to help me get some information I need. I wouldn't let Cain destroy me. I had to use every bit of cunning I've picked up from being in kiddie porn, turning tricks at the truck stop, becoming a tri-state sensation with my Home Abortion Kit and being the lead singer of The Cunty Bitches. My life hadn't been one big heap of shit to ruin me, it had been that way to train me. For this.

My God--it is just like Cunt Face said. You do create your own reality and if you think otherwise, you just need to change your perspective.


Love,

Trasha