This post submitted to Sunday Photo Fiction.

It was probably the best room she had spent the night in a long time. At least she would have a warm room with a real bed and some palatable food to keep her nourished.

Just graduating from high school had been an achievement. After that the boys had started to take advantage of her mental condition. She wasn’t a prize for them just an easy notch on their belt of manhood.

Booze became her best friend. A friend she needed daily. The buzz made the boys attention tolerable. Her drab apartment, in the worst part of town, became a hangout for the tough and not so tough hoods. An apartment where she rented a refrigerator, the only furniture a couch that one of the boys had found at the side of the road and had made a present of it to her, torn down cardboard boxes used as her bed, a toilet that overflowed constantly the water actually freezing on the floor in the winter.

Her address was well know at the local police station. She knew some of the officers by their first name they had responded so often to her apartment.

She wonders if her police friends will miss her.