"MOM!" I scream for her inside my head as the cum slides down my throat. I wanna go home. Oh, God, please let me go home. The fat man chuckles and tells his friend it was great. He tosses me over onto my hands and knees. I wince as another enters me. The gravel stings my flesh as the man pumps my body. I retch, the bile rises in my throat and I wish I were dead.

It's over. A twenty dollar bill is thrown down at me. I hurt too much to take it. All I can do is roll on my side and grab my guts. I feel liquid seeping from my anus. I hope it isn't blood. It is.

A breeze whips up and I grab for the money before it's swept away. The john is gone, he disappeared into the city shadows like a ghost. Maybe he was a ghost. I tell my mother I'm sorry in my mind. I think she hears me. She always told me to never be scared. That life was meant to be awesome. And I had run away from her. New York was a beacon. A promise of fame and fortune. I wanted my own rules. I thought I knew.

I sit here in a back lot, alone, used, abused. And filthy, inside and out. A whore.

I look at my wrists. The veins bulge with my life's blood. I reach into a pocket for my knife. I can't go home.

I tell myself, "Be cool, motherfucker, be cool. Just don't be scared."

I'm scared. I hold the twenty up so the breeze will catch it. It flies away, swirling up and around, like a green butterfly, taking my innocence with it. I'm no longer my mother's son. And I cut myself good-bye.