Chapter 1, Part 1 in Camp NaNoWriMo 2014

Welcome to Hell.

Not the nicest way to think of your home, Julie thought, but it could possibly be the most accurate. Julie wrinkled her nose as she stepped out of the tiny apartment that she shared with her mother, staring down the street as the early light tried to force its way between the buildings and the gloom. The street was the same as it'd been all sixteen years that she had lived in that little house, with little but the gang signs changing. The buildings in this area were so close together that it seemed as though they were all one large building instead of a bunch of little ones. The alleys between were dark, dank and only wide enough for two men to pass side by side, if they didn't mind brushing each other's shoulders. There were no cars down here in the Lower city, those were reserved for the Inner City. Those in the High City didn't need cars. Stepping down off of the cracked stones that made up the stairs to her apartment building, Julie made her way into the street itself. They all tried to keep the street clean, she knew, those who still cared, but even the best efforts of the dozen or so people who took their turn sweeping away the dirt and the worse things couldn't keep up with the amount of grime and sewage that made its way down their walkway. Skirting the edge of a pool of liquid that spread its way along the road, Julie tried not to think about what it could be. It was best not to know, and to try to keep your shoes as clean as possible.

Not stopping to think, she hiked up her battered backpack and started walking down the street, keeping towards the middle of the road so not to disturb the myriad of people who were trying to rest in the entrances of the alley ways. Seeing them, Julie was once again relieved that her father had given them the little two bedroom apartment. No matter how bad her life was, it would be a lot worse if she had to live on the streets. And her mother... She didn't know how her mother would fare if she had to spend her days squatting on the streets instead of being safe in their homey little nest. Not that it would matter to her either way, as long as she could get her fix. Julie's mother was a trance dust addict. And as such, she only had one foot in reality. Julie would have felt bad leaving her home alone, even for a little of a time as it took for her to go to school in the mornings, if it wasn't for Mrs. McGreedy.

Julie didn't even know if that was Mrs. McGreedy's real name, but that was the name that the woman used when she introduced herself six months ago when she moved in. And in this place, you don't ask too many questions. Mrs. McGreedy was older than Julie, almost old enough to be her mother, with shoulder length brown hair and grey eyes that seemed to change color as you looked at them. She was all together lovely, and tried to make the best of her life here in the Lower City. Mrs. McGreedy offered to take care of Julie's mother when Julie couldn't, in exchange for gossip and fresh food when she could get it. The woman was a life saver.

Continuing down the street, Julie passed through the first of the checkpoints. Julie didn't have to look to the buildings at either side of her to know that along their stone face the same symbol was painted; a red v, curved to look like a long fang, held inside of a quickly made spiral. The symbol of the gang that ran this part of town, the Pit Vipers. As she moved to pass through them, the two young thugs that made up today's checkpoint straightened. Not a word was exchanged as she passed between the tough looking youth, the youngest of which not older than she was herself. They both wore the red bandanna for their gang and had the mark tattooed on their cheek. Runners. Low level enough not to be bothered with more than shaking down the populous and maybe going to demand 'protection money' from the few little shops in their area. All in all, no threat.

Julie knew this because of two things. One: when you live in the Lower City, you get to know the things that will save your life, and one of those things is who you don't fuck with. And two: Her father told her. Julie's father Marcus was one of those egnimas in her life. He wasn't around much, too busy with his day job, and unable to handle a tranced wife and a little snot-nosed kid. He was a lieutenant in the Pit Vipers, one of the men under the headman himself. And as such, his loyalties were to his gang, not to the women who made their lives at his sufferance. It was through his influence that they got the small apartment, and at his insistence, they weren't bothered by the bully boys who wanted to get in good with the gang. Julie knew that she owed the little bit of peace she and her mother got to Marcus, but she couldn't help disliking the man.

He would fly in, like a whirlwind, asking how things were, looking around to make sure that Sandra wasn't sleeping around or doing one of a thousand other things that would make him look bad. Sometimes he brought gifts like warm blankets to help get through the winter, or extra rations. Other times he just blew in, looked Julie over, grunted and left. Every time he came in to stay for more than a day or two, he would pull Sandra out of the trance, withholding the drug until she became semi-aware of him. They would cloister themselves in Sandra's bedroom and Julie wouldn't see nor hear from them for hours. This always unnerved Julie and she would pace back and forth in the living room until Marcus would exit out the bedroom. Most of the time he'd look at her silently for a few moments, offer her some money, and then be off again on his important business. It was after his visits that the real impact happened. Sandra would be almost catatonic after these visits. Even trance free, she would sit, barely moving, in the center of her too-large bed, staring at nothing even as tears rolled down her cheeks.

A day or three of this behavior, and then she'd be sucked back down into trance, as far as it would take her, and Julie would be left alone once again.