Chapter 20: Samson, I’m Consuela. I Promise I Won’t Cut Your Hair

If you don’t burn the pages that have been ripped out of your life’s book, they will surface and haunt you. I didn’t burn my pages, so one day someone knocked my door. It was night time.

I was living at a new place. I had plans to get away soon, but I had bought a flat in London with an incredible view. I could watch people in the street for hours and study their actions and attitudes. It gave me more information to for my acting. I also bought a big painting of Frank Sinatra and decorated the apartment in a mixture of old and new things; it was very nice. I was also much more classy. I had enough money to buy more chic clothes to replace my slutty ones. I started to wear my hair straight too.

John, the detective, was at the door. He was different, much stronger. He had let his hair grow, so he looked like Samson.

He said, “Hey, young lady. “Can I come in?”

I said, “I don’t have much of a choice, do I? Do you want to have a drink?” I was actually thinking, Do you want to get naked and shag? You can be my second. Angel –John was so beautiful.

“No thanks,” he said. “I came here to ask you some questions. Wow, nice new place. You are probably working a lot to live here. Are you renting or did you buy it?”

I said, “I thought me having sex with you would release me from having to answer any questions, John. Everyone has a price, no?”

John said, “We found a body in the middle of the woods. It was the guy who raped you. Do you know anything about that?”

“Listen, John,” I said. “I already told everything I know to the cops, and to be honest, I don’t remember what happened very well because most of the time I was doped up.”

“This man harmed you, and I know that’s not easy to forget,” he said. “I’m just trying to do my job here. I know you are the only one who knew about this guy.”

I said, “Why don’t you fucking do it, then? You are not a fucking detective. Listen, I’m just trying to do my job and forget about everything that happened! I just want to forget everything! Including you. Can’t you understand that? I suffered a lot because of this man and you.”

“You see? You can remember. I have to tell you one thing. Your mother has been released from jail. She’s now at a mental hospital not very far from here. Please tell me the truth and I can help you. Believe it or not, I care a lot about you.”

I was fucked. I couldn’t believe that bitch was out. Maybe it was about time to start raising Rottweilers. I could say, “Oops, my dog ate her by mistake.”

John knew it was me who killed the rapist.

“I can’t believe they released her!” I said. “That’s impossible. I can’t believe it.” I was so angry. I tried to think of a solution. How could the police be so stupid?

John said, “What happened? Did you go after him? Did you call him? I know everything about your past, Derek. If you don’t collaborate with the investigation, I can put you in jail or you can continue to play your games with your mother at the mental hospital. I bet she would love to see you there. You probably have a lot of her genes.” That was low. Now he was really pissing me off.

I said, “I already told you that I don’t know anything about the guy, Angel… I mean, John. I was too scared.”

I don’t think even I could believe that bullshit I was saying. I just didn’t know what to say or what to do. I had a mixed feelings.

“You knew this guy was chasing you and that he could get you killed. Tell me, how did you get your clients? Pimps? Who was the pimp that gave you his contact before? Now I understand you better. I knew there was something more. What a fool I was.” He was getting jealous.

I said, “Man, one thing I have learned is that pimps are useless. They just take your money and leave. You’re a detective. You should have known about me and everything, John. I didn’t have to tell you anything. You always knew.”

“You know what?” he said. “I will need to come back later.”

I saw in his face that he liked me; I saw him looking at my body. He wanted to leave my house because he was scared of himself.

I said, “I don’t have many options, do I?” I had to try to do something to make him change the subject or to make him like me more. So I said, “You have such a beautiful mouth. Why don’t we have some fun?”

I was trying to seduce him. I took my shirt off.

John said, “Please, don’t.”

I said, “Do I make you nervous, detective? I used to charge a lot of money for this, but you can have it for free. Let’s do it. Just like before. What? Don’t you think I’m pretty enough?”

“Of course I do,” he said.

I said, “Tell me, detective. What do you like? You never really told me. Once you bought me a vibrator. Do you want me to try it on you? Do you like being spanked, or do you like to spank? Talk dirty? Romantic sex? Any fantasies? Perhaps you like to dress up like a woman?”

I was playing around with him, keeping his mind busy. I knew they would never discover it was me and that he would never do anything about it anyway. He would probably feel proud of me for killing the bastard, but in a way, I don’t think he thought I was capable of doing it. I took care of everything so they would never find out. Now I just wanted to play a bit. I did like him, after all.

John said, “Young lady, you are very beautiful and I could really forget about everything and just make love to you, but that would be so pathetic, like you. It’s not you that I want, it’s information. Don’t make the mistake of thinking I am one of your clients.”

Wow, that hurt, but I would never give up. What he said just made me want him more.

I said, “You are really a very interesting man, and I’m being totally honest now. I really do like you. How do you know you wouldn’t like to make love to me again?”

John said, “I’m very lazy about sex. And I think you know that. I’m not the lion you think I am, darling. I will come back later. Perhaps in the meantime, you’ll grow up and try to become a real woman.”

I said, “Do you think that next time you can handle it and control yourself?”

“If I can’t handle waiting for you until next time, it’s because you also want the same thing, and when that happens, I will know that you really want something true in your life”

He turned to leave, and I said, “John, wait.”

He looked back straight into my eyes, and I said, “I’m glad your head is fine.” He left without saying anything.

I  wanted to tell him, “I miss you.” But I didn’t have the courage.

He left my house, and I had the mug face. I wondered whether my ego had grown too big and whether I could be trapped by my own feelings.

I fell asleep quickly after he left because I was tired, angry and very confused.

I went to a big old house in the countryside; it looked like a castle. I knocked on the door, and it opened. The only person standing there was the butler. He looked happy, and he offered me a drink and his hand to shake. I said, “Hi.” And he didn’t say anything. I looked closer and realised he was a waxwork. I went inside. The house was large and looked like my old house in Brazil. Each room was painted a different colour. This one was red. Inside was a man playing “Can’t Take My Eyes Off of You” on the piano and people dancing. Everyone was made of wax. I was so scared I started to run away, but when I did, I ended up in a dark room. It was the same room where my brother and cousin used to blindfold me. I saw myself. They say when you see yourself it’s because death is getting close. I was really angry and I asked them to stop doing this to me, but they wouldn’t listen. Then I saw my father watching them, sitting in a chair next to mine and putting his fingers inside my skirt. “Concentrate, Derek,” he said.

The doorbell woke me up. I thought John had come back. But when I opened the door, I saw her. My mother.

She said, “Hello, Derek. Did you miss me?”



Chapter 19: My Conscience Also Liked to Play Golf

Finally I was legally in the country and had lots of friends who I knew loved me very much and my career was doing well. I was earning enough money to survive, and life was good.

But I still wasn’t totally at peace because I knew that if I didn’t find the rapist first, he would find me – and this time he would definitely kill me.

The police gave me a false name and identity to protect me.

They gave me a false birth certificate. I was a European girl named Consuela.

They say revenge is a dish best served cold, and probably it is.

For months I looked for the rapist. I didn’t say anything to the police because I wanted to find him myself. Finally I found the guy. He was staying in a hotel and using a different name. Apparently, he had been travelling around to make sure he wouldn’t be caught. But this time, he had been – and by the worst person, me.

I had a dream that I was walking in a forest with a golf club in my hands. I knew who I was looking for. I saw him in my dream and smashed his face with the club. Sinatra was singing in the background for me while I was killing him. When I finished, a guy that I had never met came to me naked and said, “Hi.”

I said, “Wow, what a big cock you have. Why are you naked?”

He said, “Because I’m part of your dream. This is the way your dreams chose me to appear. Thank you for complimenting my cock. Do you know what they say about men with big feet? Big shoes.”

I said, “You’re not wearing any shoes.”

He said, “Sinatra is.”

“Who the hell are you anyway?”  I said.

He said, “You know me very well. I’m your conscience.”

I thought, I didn’t know I had one.

He replied, “Yes you have.”

How he could read my thoughts? I thought.

He said, “Because I’m your conscience.”

I said, “Well, tell me what you want. I’m in the middle of something.” I continued to break the golf club over the rapist’s head.

My conscience then said, “Derek, that’s wrong. You are not a killer. You are not the same as him. Stop. Please give me that.”

I said, “Well, I don’t feel anything, and I’m not going to regret what I’m doing, so I guess you’re wrong, my conscience. What are you, anyway?”

He said, “If you didn’t feel anything, I wouldn’t be here telling you, I would be sucking someone’s cock and earning some money. But that also would be wrong, wouldn’t it? Unless you like the person.”

I said, “Shut up, bitch.” And I brought the club down on the rapist’s neck, cutting off his head. It cut off my head too. I woke up.

I went to the rapist’s hotel and called him from reception. I had everything planned. I’d been planning this for a long time and had gone over it and over it again in my mind. I would make him think I was blackmailing him.

I told him to meet me in the middle of a road in the countryside. I said if he gave me some money that I wouldn’t tell the police about him. The stupid guy agreed, of course. He thought everyone was the same and looking for the same thing, money. And I asked for a lot. I would be safe forever.

At night, he met me exactly where I told him to be. He got out of the car with a bag, apparently full of the cash I had requested, and I hit him in the head with a piece of wood. He passed out, and I dragged him to the middle of the forest. What a heavy boy.

I never felt closer to God than when walking in the woods. Hunting is freedom, peace, contentment, happiness, joy, sweetness, exploration, satisfaction, challenge and a thousand other things.

The pleasure I felt then was better than any I had when I was acting. For the first time, I felt myself. I could be myself. I knew that what I was doing was right! It was right for me, for my father and for every single kid that had died or suffered.

Can any of us honestly say that, as kids, we didn’t shoot birds with our slingshots or our air rifles or set homemade traps for other critters? If you say you have never done that, then you either never had the opportunity as a child or you’re an exception to the rule of human nature.

When I used to play in the forest behind my house, two boys, our neighbours, lived very close. My brother used to take the youngest one to play doctor with us. I didn’t like it. My brother was mine. I kicked the boy in the face and he cried to his older brother. He was around thirty and I was probably nine. One day he came and beat me so hard and left me in the middle of the woods. Both my brother and the youngest boy just watched. I didn’t tell my dad because the boys said they would kill me if I told anyone. So I promised one day I would find those brothers and kill them.

When the rapist woke up, first I scared him. I had tied him to a tree –alive and naked. I let spiders walk all over him. I tied him up facing the tree because I wanted to fuck his asshole. I wanted him to suffer.

But first I broke his teeth one by one. With my own hands.

I stuck a knife very fast into him bum hole, over and over again. I He probably was used to that.  After that, I took a belt, like he had done with me, and I whipped him very hard. I lost count of how many times I punched his face and scratched him with my nails.

In the end, I cut off his penis. I stuck the penis inside his asshole. It fit really well.

When I was doing it, I remembered a joke. An army captain had two dogs, one called Sword and the other, Dick. He was giving his soldiers orders when both dogs entered the room. He shouted, “Dick! Out!” And all the soldiers pulled their dicks out. Then he shouted to the other dog, “Pass, Sword! Fast!”

I left him there, bleeding. I didn’t know what happened to him after that, and I didn’t care; I knew he was going to die. At some point while I was torturing him, I thought he was already dead, but my pleasure was so great that I couldn’t stop.

I hoped my dad would kill him on the other side and I hope he meets my brother, cousin and grandfather too. They would probably have an orgy.

People say that God will make your pain go away or that bad things that happen are God’s will. Maybe what happened to me was. At least I now have many other ideas for my acting career.

The rapist was maybe the worst thing that ever happened to me, but he was also was the best thing that happened to me because made me feel that I was unbreakable.

I feel now that nothing can stop me. They say what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. Well, I’m not dead. But he is now.

Another truth is that we pay for our sins here on Earth. I will always repeat that.

Regret is such a useless feeling. I had a bag full of money, and I felt nothing but pure happiness.

Chapter 18: The Leprechaun Hides His Pot of Gold at the End of the Rainbow

I wake up every day and to be honest I don’t care whether it’s a sunny day or raining. It doesn’t matter whether it’s grey, black, yellow, purple, shiny, or whether there are bombs exploding outside (well, that I might care about). But whatever it is, I wake up and I understand that if you have people that you love and care for unconditionally, the love most people have for their families, then the colour of the sky doesn’t matter. It’s still going to be beautiful because you are alive and can enjoy everything that life gives to you and you know there are people out there who love you too.

Loving and being loved by anyone is what makes you wake up and look at the sky with a big smile on your face.

Everyone looks for that all their life, and this dream is what keeps everyone alive. Some people are just really scared to love, probably because life has made them like that or because love and passion have another meaning for them. Beauty and love mean different things to each person.

When I came to, my head hurt so much that I couldn’t move. I didn’t want to open my eyes, not just because my whole body hurt, but because my heart was exploding in pain.

I was very dizzy still and sick. My mother must have drugged my tea. I could see only flashes but I could hear everything.

I recognised the voices. There wasn’t just my mother’s; I recognised someone else’s voice: the rapist.

My mother said, “So, what now?”

He said, “Now I’m waiting for the equipment to arrive, otherwise we can’t cut her bones. What do you want to use? A knife? That won’t work, darling.”

She said, “She won’t feel any pain, will she? I would hate that. Can you pay me now, please?”

He said, “Of course not. You still have to help me. What? Do you think I would do that all by myself?”

She said, “Come on, the agreement was just to bring the girl over here, and I did. Now I want my money so I can leave, please. I still have to find the other girls anyway. She’s not the only one who escaped. Darling, why don’t you just bring your dogs around? We don’t have to wait for the instruments to arrive to cut her up; we can just feed her to a Rottweiler and bury what’s left in concrete.”

I felt that I wasn’t there. I thought this was all just a dream.

I remember every single moment when I was loved. I remember the way Angel hugged me at night. I remember Angel’s sweetness and how he used to talk to me and how he was always careful not to hurt me and how he was afraid of losing me. I remember my trainer, and how he admired me for who I was, and how much we used to laugh and talk when we were running or walking in the park with those beautiful, colourful trees. I remember the first time I went to the theatre and how impressed I was by the singing and dancing, and how easy it looked and how it gave me the feeling that I had to get up and go and play with them.

I especially remember my dad, and all those wonderful things he told me and taught me, and the dreams he encouraged me to have and to chase. I remember the tenderness and the magical love he had for me, and how I was the only person who could make him cry because he was so proud and happy to have me as his daughter. It’s funny because I couldn’t remember how a guy kissed even though I liked it or how he touched my hands, but I can remember exactly the way my dad used to kiss me on the cheek, I could remember that he smelled and tasted a bit sweet and salty or how warm or cold he was. I could remember exactly how his touch felt on my hands, really hard to protect me.

So I prayed. And I didn’t know how to do it. It was the first time I had done it, and I had no idea how it worked, so I prayed to Frank Sinatra. I started to sing “The Impossible Dream” and said, “If you are there, I’m you biggest fan, please help me.”

I wasn’t afraid of dying; I was afraid of losing all the opportunities that I had created. I was so scared of losing everything I had planned.

After an hour I was taken to another room. It was really dark and I couldn’t see anything. I was still very dizzy. I wasn’t tied up. I was just free. So I tried to keep strong and look for an exit. The place smelled like old blood. The smell was so strong that it was difficult to breathe. I finally heard voices and dogs barking. I heard my mother say, “I would leave the dog with her for an hour. Then we can come back to pick up what’s left.”

Fuck. I didn’t know what to do. I could feel that the floor was wooden and had something underneath so I tried to break it. My kicks were strong! I kicked the floor over and over again till I made a small hole. I jumped into just as my mother let the dog in. He run so fast and bit my arm. I was halfway inside the hole so I couldn’t kick him. I started to feel really sick and I was in a lot of pain. I vomited all over the dog. That gave me a chance to get out of the hole. I kicked the dog and jumped back into the hole in the floor, the dog barking after me. I had no idea where I was, but I fell into the darkness to the floor below. I thought I was in hell. But it was very cold. I couldn’t feel anything; I was probably frozen.

Like a miracle, I heard sirens outside, and a voice – the beautiful voice of Angel shouting my name. I was so weak that I blacked out.

I came to in a hospital with something inside my nose and Angel’s face looking at me. I was happy but embarrassed because I didn’t want him to see me like this, not dressed in a hospital gown with something in my nose and no make-up. I looked like a monkey!

He had a big smile on his face and told me, “Derek, you are the silliest girl I have ever met in my life. You are incredibly stupid, but also incredibly brave. I have never seen someone with such a passion for life as you, and those emotions you feel are what make you such a special person. The anger will not last forever; one day you will find peace in your heart. Those are just some of the reasons you interest me more every day.”

He told me that he hadn’t called me back because he was away working on a case and had dropped his phone in the water, so he didn’t receive my e-mail till he got to his computer.

I asked, “Case? I didn’t know you were a lawyer. I thought you worked with investments.”

He said. “No, Derek. That’s what I was trying to say to you. Paula is not my lover; she’s working with me on your case. Your friend probably wanted to get inside your pants and lied. He knew her because they dated a long time ago and she broke up with him because he was an asshole. I’m sorry. I was trying to tell you, but you—”

“Case? What case? What are you talking about? Who are you?” I said.

“I’m a detective, Derek. My real name is John. I’ve been tracking this guy, the rapist, for many years now. I was sent to you to collect information.”

I got so angry at him that I kicked him in the head.  I shouted, “Get out of my face right now! Now! I can’t believe you. John? How could you lie to me? Bastard! Even your name? How could you seduce me and make me fall in love with you? I just can’t believe it! Just fucking leave and never come back. You are the worst person I have ever met in my life! How can you say you like me? You’re totally crazy!”

He left with half of his head bleeding and didn’t said anything. I guess he didn’t have to.

One of the cops told me that when Angel arrived at my house, he saw my mother’s letter and the address, and after everything I had told him in my e-mail, he knew something was wrong.

Straight away he called the police and explained what was going on.

The police promised me they wouldn’t charge me with anything or say anything if I agreed to press charges against everyone involved. Of course I agreed to all of it, just as Angel had guessed I would.

When the police arrived at the hotel, the concierge said he had heard my mother saying the rapist’s name, so the police were quickly able to track down his address and went straight there.

When they arrived at his house, they discovered it was full of hidden and built-in torture equipment. That was more than enough evidence for them. After they examined his house, they asked me to tell them more about him. I told them what I knew about this guy from my childhood. They asked for the names of any other guys or pimps who were involved and promised they would protect me and not deport me. The only problem was that the rapist, of course, wasn’t stupid had had time to run out the back door. The police weren’t able to catch him, but they arrested my mother and took her to jail.

Chapter 17: The Letter, the Plant, Some Dogs and the Fat Whore

I used to say that my life was an open book with some ripped-out pages. I hadn’t burned them, so one day someone was bound to find them.

At that point, I had no friends besides my good-looking, smoking hot Brad Pitt–type personal trainer. I paid him to come around, at least when I had money; most of the time I didn’t. Even so, he would give me free lessons almost every day. Pity he was gay and not an escort, otherwise I would have contracted him for other stuff.

My life was a mess, and he helped me more than anyone else ever did just by being around and kicking me when I didn’t want to exercise or when I was doing something stupid – so all the time. Some people have really old souls; he had one. Maybe mine had gotten lost.

Before sending me to Earth, God turned me many times, shook me a little, pushed me and said, “Go!” And here I am now.

I had another friend who I called Martha Fox. I bought her in the first place because of her description; she was called a “money plant”. She didn’t need a lot of tending, and like me, she was beautiful! She didn’t have my modesty. I guess that was because she was just a plant.

I called her Martha Fox because I used to go to this GLS club, and in the bathroom there was an old lady who was supposed to take care of naughty people. Instead she just sat in a chair knitted. She was like a plant. Her name was Martha Fox.

After a few months, I decided to call Angel. I realised I was not going to lose him to that ugly bitch. I was willing to tell him everything about me and apologise for not listening to him. If he still wanted me, it would have to be for who I really was.  I couldn’t just blame him. It would be like the dirty talking about the poor unwashed, as the Brazilians say.

I called him, but he didn’t answer, so I sent him an e-mail telling him everything about me and how I was scared about telling him and that if he still wanted me, at least he now knew who I was.

I waited for a reply, and then I waited more and waited more, and then I realised after two months that he would never reply. I guess he saw the monster inside me and didn’t want me back. I was really, really sad, but life is like that. Maybe some people are meant to be alone.

One beautiful day, I a letter in the mail. At first thought it was another bill, but then I saw it was a letter from my mother.

My heart pumped so fast that I thought I was going to have a heart attack. I thought, If I die now, she’s going to get what she always wanted. Maybe this is a bomb or she just wants money.

I sat in front of that letter for an hour, drinking wine, until I worked up the courage to open and read it. It said:

Dear daughter,

Now, finally, I have the courage to talk to you and open myself up. I have always been chasing you, and I always knew where you were.

Many times I passed your front door, but I never got enough courage to knock.

Derek, in the past I was not your friend, and I only realised this when you went away.

My only daughter, away from me! So much time has passed, and I did not realise!

In the past, when I was working hard, I did not realise that I actually had a female child! One who should be my best friend, one I could trust. You were the loveliest little girl and had the warmest heart, and you had a terrible mother like me.

What hurts most and is that I can’t turn back time.

Forgive me if I did you harm or if I was sloppy with you.

The day you left, I tried to take you back, but they didn’t let me. They said if I tried, he would kill you and then me. So I asked them to give you to Mr A for free and said that I didn’t want to be part of that. I heard he was a good man, better than all the others.

He was the one who told me where you were.

I did not realise how horrible a mother I was! I was not your friend in your adolescence, not because I dealt you the value.

I did not realise you were growing up and becoming a woman.

When I used to come to you, you were always uncomfortable.

I cannot tell how much I love you. You are and always have been the most important person in the world to me.

I miss you so much! For several years, I have been mentally ill. I remember almost nothing. Just you, and just that I miss you very, very much.

Forgive me! The time that has passed … I was such a terrible mother…

My dear little girl!

I want to give the world to you now, and I want you to forgive me for everything I’ve done. I will try hard to make that happen.

Derek, I will give you anything you need. I want you to never forget me and to understand that from now on you have a home, food, laundry, a mother and a room that I made up especially for you.

You do not need to go through certain situations; you have Mom waiting for you!

Your house is our house in Brazil; I will always be waiting for you. Please forgive me!

Thousands of kisses. I do love you very much. Please forgive me.


She made my heart melt. The mother I had never had did in fact have a heart. My theory about people being good was actually true. People are good and have feelings and a heart, and people can change too. Is that possible?

I didn’t know what I should I do now. I cried. I had always wanted a mother. Did she really love me? Was that all true? What should I do? She was the only family I had left.

In the letter, she had left her phone number and an English address. Should I call her? Or should I go there to visit and talk to her? My head was spinning.

I was also happy and excited. I wouldn’t go back to Brazil; I had my life whole life ahead of me and had so many plans and dreams for the future. But I could keep her here and live with her again, and she could sleep with me in the same bed. We could have the mother–daughter relationship I had always dreamed of and had seen in the movies.

We could go shopping together, and she could help me to choose my clothes, and I could buy her some too, or even open a business, and go to Sunday lunches together as a family, and do all those things that mothers and daughters who love each other do all the time. Did she look like me now? Or did I look like her? I couldn’t wait.

After walking around my flat with a bottle in my hands, drinking and thinking, I finally called her.

I said, “Hi. I… it’s, ahh…”

“Derek?” she said. “Oh my God! Derek! I can’t believe it! My baby! It’s me, your mother! Please come and see me! You have the address where I’m staying in the letter I gave you.”

Wow. Her voice sounded exactly like mine. I couldn’t believe it.

I had started receiving phone calls from Angel. He left me a voice message saying he had so many things to tell me and that he really had to talk to me about some serious things, but at that point I didn’t care because I just wanted to see my mother.

He called and called. I couldn’t tell him about this situation with my mother because now he knew everything she had done to me and he could hate me for that or try to stop me for seeing her.

I just told him that I had to sort out some problems but I would be back later to talk to him. I told him if he passed by my house later that night I would leave the keys for him under the carpet so he could wait for me inside. I had nothing to hide from him anymore.

So I left to see my mother. She was staying in a cheap hotel in a bad neighbourhood.

I was so nervous; I felt like I was going on a first date with a man. I had no idea what to say or how to react, but I also had so many things to tell her.

Room 11: There it. When she opened the door, she looked so different. She had blonde hair and had lost a lot of weight. She was still very pretty. We looked a bit similar, but I had a lot of my dad’s features.

She gave me a huge hug without saying anything, and I hugged her back. I thought it was a bit awkward. I became so emotional that I started to cry like a baby.

She said, “Come inside. I’m making some tea for us.”

I said, “Listen, I can’t stay long. I have to be back home later tonight. I just wanted to see you and talk for bit.”

She said, “Yes, of course. Oh my God, I have so much to tell you. Drink some tea, please. I brought those cookies for you from Brazil. Remember? You used to love them!”

I felt like I was Little Red Riding Hood and she was the Wolf-Granny.

It was weird. I had had so much in mind to say, but when I arrived nothing came to mind.

The only thing I could say was, “Mmm, nice tea. Love the cookies.”

After fifteen minutes of sitting there drinking her tea without having much to say, I started to feel a bit sick and dizzy.

I got up from the chair and told her that I had to go as it was getting late and that we could catch up the next day.

While I was getting up, something hit me really hard in the head, and I fell over and fainted.

Chapter 16: Some People Fall from a Horse. My Fall Was Farther. I Fell from a Camel

One of my best childhood friends became a very successful lawyer, but everyone thought she was a hooker. No one sees how the world really is and how people really are. When I start seeing a guy and he asks me how many guys I have slept with, I never know what to say.

My friend once told me to always say that he’s the second. So that’s what I told every guy. They thought I was such a good girl. But after the first time we have sex, they know it’s not true.

People can never see me the way I see myself. Most of the time I feel like the Loch Ness Monster inside.

On my birthday, to cheer myself up, I threw a house party.

I invited all my friends. Angel had a lot of attitude; he just appeared at my front door. Weirdly, it his birthday too.

He said, “I’m sorry, but I really have to talk to you. But I don’t want to ruin your party, so can we talk another day?” I thought, I don’t want to break your heart. I spent the whole evening talking to him. I told him I loved vampire stories, and he bit be. The guy left his mark.

We danced a lot to Sinatra and my dad’s music. I let him touch my breasts while we were dancing. We rubbed our bodies together, went down to the floor and came up again.

I let him smell me, almost kiss. I let his hands go down the back of my pants.

A friend of mine was very drunk, and my friend said, “Hey, I remember you. Angel, right?” He was halfway on the floor already. “Hey, I know! You are Paula’s new boyfriend.”

I asked myself, Who the hell is Paula? Angel said, “I’m sorry, Derek. I tried to tell you but you didn’t let me explain. Please, let me tell you right now. It’s not what you think.”

I said, “Classic! Angel, just leave my house right now. You don’t have to explain. It takes a good listener just one word to understand.”

Maybe everything happens for a reason and I should really have known about this. But I wished I hadn’t. Maybe I deserved it anyway. Well, I knew I deserved it. My lot was probably to be alone. Maybe I was cursed.

My friend said, “I’m sorry, Derek.” And he made a joke about it. “Maybe he thinks the other girl is hotter than you. You are probably not his type.”

I went to see what she looked like, and I was quite happy because I thought she was very ugly. I know that’s very bad. I also asked a girlfriend of mine to look at this other girl’s picture, and she said, “What the hell’s he doing with her? She’s so ugly.”

And I said, laughing, “ I’m happy you said that otherwise I would be so mad at you and would never talk to you again.”

She said, “Well, I think I would never talk to me again. She’s not half as good-looking as you.”

That reminded me that once I got jealous of Angel at a party, and I said, “I think that girl likes you.” He said, “Why would I have chicken if I can have turkey?” I felt that was so sweet and such a great answer. Now she was his turkey and I was the chicken.

When I heard about the other girl, I felt such heartache. It was like someone had punched me in the face. I had never felt that way before for anyone.

My father taught me that things in life either are or they are not. You always know when you like or you dislike someone. You just know. He also said that even though he was married to my mother for twenty-five years, he never knew her entirely. So how long does it take to know someone else? Most people don’t even know themselves.

I think you should only be with someone that thinks you are the most special person. I guess Angel never felt that way.

I don’t know what we all should learn from past love stories, but I do know that love is the most important thing, whoever it comes from – friends, family or boyfriends – and we shouldn’t be afraid of that. But we should love ourselves first and foremost, because if you don’t love yourself and you don’t have dignity or pride, what do you have?

I needed time to sort myself out. I was so confused. They say time is your best friend, and it’s true. Another thing is that patience is a person’s biggest virtue.

So I stepped back from him once more and changed my number and e-mail address so he couldn’t contact me again till I got my mind and thoughts on the right track.

Chapter 14: Mona Lisa Didn’t Like Mugs Very Much

I never spoke with anyone about the things that happened in my childhood or how I felt. I never knew whether I should feel guilty or whether what happened was right or wrong.

I guess I just felt horny. Now I don’t know. Perhaps because as I aged, I became conscious that what happened to me was actually wrong, including my feelings. I hated feeling like that. I wished I were numb, like I had been. It would hurt less.

I started to have nightmares about my father again. I felt glad because it looked like he was alive again. It was very hard for me, as I was never taught about religion or how to deal with death. Before my father had died, I was scared of dying; but now, somehow, I wasn’t anymore.

Even though my mother was working for the church, she wasn’t a good person. Well, at least I thought she was the biggest hypocrite on Earth. Some people are extremely religious and sometimes they get a bit mad, but religion also helps people a lot. People get over drugs or killing people. It brings peace to them in their hearts.

I couldn’t stop thinking about that bastard who raped me, and all the kids back there in Brazil, and the auctions. Now that I was old enough to understand how bad all that was, I had to stop it. But how? I was definitely strong enough now, and I had nothing else in my life to lose. I could only win. I was my best friend, and the only thing that could stop me was myself.

One night, I couldn’t sleep – too many nightmares, too many thoughts – so I decided to go out with some friends. A girlfriend from my acting agency told me that she had to go to an art party on a blind date.

I was in a hunting mood anyway. Two months without sex… usually I can’t stand a week without it.

I wanted to look beautiful, so I wore my sexiest red dress a lot of make-up and massive heels. My hair was very long, still black and wavy.

I got very drunk. A girl came up to me to say something about my dress, and we started chatting, and she asked me which places I went to on summer holidays.

I told her how much fun I had when I went to Nikki Beach in St. Tropez, and she just gave me a look like I was the most disgusting person she had ever met. She said, “I hate show-offs. This place is full of ordinary rich Russians, Arabs and hookers.”

I told her, “Well, I went with my girlfriends and we hooked up with young pretty boys and drank the best champagne without paying for any of it. The only thing I paid for was a Diet Coke that cost thirty-five Euros.”

I couldn’t believe that she thought I was stupid and shallow just because I liked a place. Those art people were so weird; I guess there was no potential for friendship with this person.

The gallery was displaying a piece of “art” that looked like a mountain of shit, except it was made of iron. A shit sculpture. I wouldn’t have that in my living room! It really was shit.

I said to that girl, “Wow, that’s terrible, don’t you think?

She said, “I don’t think so, otherwise I wouldn’t have spent six years making it. St. Tropez suits you.”

I said, “And your sculpture suits you very well. Just because you want to show that you are an artist or you’re scruffy or don’t know what to wear, you dress up like Morticia Addams. Fuck you and your dork glasses. Don’t you know that contact lenses exist? You are like this not to show that the only thing you care about is art but for the simple fact that you are lazy.”

I was falling over drunk at that point and I didn’t really know what I was saying. It felt like I was back in school fighting off bullies.

She left me talking to myself.

After I had some more champagne, I saw a beautiful body. He was such a handsome man: super tall, slim but tan, and he had a beard. He had that look of a very wise young boy, but he was around forty and had blue eyes and brown hair.

While I was thinking about how I could talk to him, he just appeared in front of me and gave me his hand and introduced himself.

I thought, Wow, a man with more attitude than me! I like it.

He said, “Where are you from, darling?”

The only thing I could say was, “I’m from heaven, baby. And you?”

He said, “I’m from Ireland.”

You know people who are beautiful and nice who everyone wants to be around? Like Dorian Gray? He was like that.

And he knew it.

He offered mints to everyone around him. He gave each person two, but when it was my turn, he gave me just one and said, “I’m only giving you one because I want to keep you on the leash. My name is Angel, by the way.”

Oh, I was already in love. If there was a heaven he probably fell from there. I probably did too, but straight on my head.

So I chased my friend to tell her about the guy I had just met. I told her, “I just met this guy, and he’s so handsome, and his name is Angel, and he’s from Ireland, and I’m already crazy about him!”

She said, “What? That guy over there?”

“Yes! Do you know him?”

She said, “Yes! He’s my blind date!”

And she left the party so angry with me. I felt really bad and left the party too.

My father used to say, “Good people always meet again,” so I thought that maybe one day I would see that pretty boy again – and it didn’t take long.

Two days later, I ended up at a dinner party at his house without even knowing how; I had been drinking too much.

I don’t remember much of what I said because I was too drunk, but I do remember that he came to me and asked, “If you had to choose any famous person to sleep with tonight, whom would you choose?”

I said, “I don’t know. Are you available tonight?”

He didn’t answer; I think it was too much for him. I was definitely on a mission!

At the end of the party the only people left were just me, him, a girlfriend of mine, and his best friend, Jerry, who was also very cute. We chatted almost the whole evening. Do you know when you connect with someone straight away? You go to say a word and it’s like the other person is reading your mind? That was Jerry and me. We had a lot in common. They say great minds think alike, and I think we did in many ways.

We all decided to swim in Angel’s pool. I was so drunk that I just had to hang on to the side of the pool while everyone was playing. We were all naked. That was fun. I was so horny that I didn’t really care who came on to me, Angel or Jerry.

Angel slowly came towards me, and finally he kissed me. I saw stars.

It was just a kiss; he didn’t even touch me. He just grabbed me hard by my hair and kissed me. And it was amazing.

I was so drunk that he had to help me to the lift to get upstairs. It was such a big house, very high tech and full of weird furniture that I had no idea how to use. When we arrived at his room, we took a shower. We didn’t have sex that night; we just slept together. It was the first experience I had like that in my life. I kept asking myself, What is wrong with this guy? So I asked him, “Are you married? Any kids? Girlfriend? Are you gay? Do you like Frank Sinatra?”

He said, “To answer all your questions, no, except the last one. I love Frankie”

I had never thought that just sleeping with someone could be so much better than sex, or that it could actually make you want the person more. The next morning, he brought me breakfast in bed. That had never happened to me.

He was amazing.

Usually I hated sleeping with men. They rubbed their cocks on my bum when I was sleeping or touched me.

Some men would say, “Oh, baby, with you in bed I just can’t control myself.”

The only thing I could think was, Just let me sleep! Please. I hated that.

But when you are in love with someone, he can sleep on top of you with all his weight on you and his cock inside your mouth, calling you “my sweet poop,” and you will think it’s the sweetest thing you ever experienced.

But this man was different; he was special. He didn’t rub his cock on my ass. Besides that, he hugged me, but not too much or too little. He tried not to move too much so he wouldn’t wake me up, and the part that impressed me most was that he didn’t prefer a side of the bed. Men usually have their side. He didn’t care.

So every time I changed sides in bed while I was sleeping, he would jump over me and change his side so he could spoon me. If I moved because I was uncomfortable, he woke up very quickly to arrange my pillow or something like that.

He woke up three times at night to brush his teeth and bring me some water in case I got thirsty. That was only the first night we spent together.

When I did get to sleep, I felt him coming towards me and lick my pussy. I said, “Don’t stop, I’m almost there.” He looked at me and said, “Come in my mouth, you stupid fat bitch.” It turned out to be my mother licking me. I kicked her really hard and said, “Not here, you bitch.” I kept kicking her, but she kept showing her tongue to me.  Disgusting.

At breakfast the next morning, we were chatting, and he asked me what my religion was. I didn’t know what it was, so I said, “I’m agnostic.”

He said, “What does that mean?”

“It means that I don’t know what to believe.”

When I was leaving his house, he asked, finally, for my number. I thought he was never going to call me, but two weeks later I received a message on my phone: “I learned what ‘agnostic’ means. You were right.”

I texted back, “Nice! I just won your phone number for that!”

He replied, “I could have figured out a better way than that to give it to you. Dinner tomorrow?”

The funny part was that it took such a long time for us to have sex; he never tried to seduce me. What I felt was weird. I gave him some blowjobs, and he licked me, but we didn’t sex. Usually after the second blow job, the guy wants to have sex, but he didn’t even try to.

One day he gave me a present. He said it was from New York.

I opened the box and there it was: a super high-tech remote control.

I gave him the mug face.

I pressed one of the buttons, and it started to vibrate really fast and move around like a snake. I realised that it wasn’t a remote control; it was a high-tech vibrator! My mug face became a bug face. I thought, Does that perfect guy want me to put this up his bum? Or does he want to use it on me? Does he know what sex means? Is this a joke? Does he think sex is just blowjobs?

He looked at my face and said, “It’s just a joke, darling. You don’t have to be scared. But tell me, what do you want?”

I said, “I want to feel you inside me.”

He said, “Wait, let me do something first.” He put on a Sinatra CD and left a package of condoms by the bedside.

, He was sweet and gentle, with those beautiful blue eyes staring at me. I had never felt this way before, and I’d seen so much.

I went back home feeling so special and smiling in my face. Nothing else mattered. All the shit that had happened in my past was gone. I felt safe.

We started to see each other quite often, and in time I start feeling very guilty because he didn’t know about my past. I wondered whether he would understand. He had also lost his parents very young and had a lot of shit going on his life, but would he continue to admire me, like I admired him? Maybe everyone has a dark past.

I tried the whole time I was with him to have fun and just enjoy what I could offer him at that point without having to talk much about personal things or who I really was. We went out with friends a lot, but we rarely went out, just the two of us. I guess I was scared.

I had no idea what was his favourite colour was or what he liked to listen to, besides Frankie, if he did any sports, what food he liked, but those things didn’t matter. Even without knowing each other, with him, everything was special. I guess him being so mysterious made me like him more.

Some men are different. And that’s when you really know you are fucked.

After a while we went out to dinner.

It was our first dinner alone; we talked as we never had before. We had so many stories to tell and so many things in common. We had such a great connection.

He paid the bill and then said it was about time for us to talk about our relationship. I felt butterflies in my stomach.

I tried to change the subject the subject, but I was freaking out and spilled wine on the table. I said, “I have to leave.” He grabbed my hand and said, “Please, I really have to talk to you. Stay.”

“I cant,” I said. “I have to go.” I got up from the table and left Angel there.

I didn’t call him the next day. I got really scared and decided not to talk to him anymore. I ran away and didn’t answer his phone calls. I didn’t want to read his messages in case I would change my mind.

My dad once told me that you shouldn’t ask someone what to do with your love life because deep inside, you already know the answers. I wasn’t sure about Angel or myself.

Don’t think I was bad. I was doing him a favour. I was protecting him.

Love is the most wonderful thing you could have and is the fuel that drives us. It keeps us alive.

But love requires respect, admiration, tenderness, sex; it is different for everyone.

I think part of what I felt was admiration for who he was around other people, for the respect and tenderness he had for his friends, the way he listened to everyone and tried to help them in any way he could. Despite the hard life he had lived, loved everything about life and never stopped being happy because he was alive. I also admired the way he realised very early how to be mature and learned that life has many beautiful things to learn and love. He said love will get you back on the track and keep your mind and heart warm.

One thing about love is true: there is no formula for it.

With Angel I was more afraid of how I would hurt him with my lies. My father had said once that he was afraid of what people would do to me; now I was afraid of what I could have done to Angel’s heart.

I once was crazy for a client. Sometimes that happened. I did everything to please him: threesomes for free, I would even have shagged a horse for that guy. Once he asked me to piss in a glass so he could drink it, and I did. He asked me to spank him, and even though I hated that, I did. I had no idea what I liked about that guy then, but today I know.

He used to tell me how much he preferred blonde girls with light-coloured eyes and very slim, almost anorexic figures –the opposite of me. I couldn’t understand why I was with him.

Sometimes after we fought, he would call me at my house and shout, “Fuck you!” and hang up on me.

So one day I woke up, and just like that, finally I realised that I actually hated him. I didn’t feel a thing for him anymore.

So I told him. He had always been manipulative, and when I broke up with him he just went mental. He asked me to come his flat to talk.

When I got there, he said, “I’m sorry. I know how bad I was for you, but I love you so much. If you don’t love me anymore, I can’t be alive anymore. I can’t live without you.”

So dramatic. I always felt disgusted when people tried to kill themselves for such a stupid feeling. Not that love was stupid, but I felt ashamed for him. It was what I said about not loving yourself. If you don’t, no one will. I just wanted to tell him, “Oh, just do it. I don’t care.”

I looked deep into his eyes and said, “I don’t love you anymore. I’m sorry, but to be honest, I don’t think I ever loved you.” I was being honest.

He screamed and cried like a baby. He got up, broke the table in front of him, then punched the mirror and took a piece of it. I ran for the front door, but he grabbed me and said, “Now you will have watch what I’m going to do to myself.”

So I jumped on him to stop him from cutting his wrists. It wasn’t because I cared for him, but because I was so embarrassed for him. He looked like a clown. I tried to take the piece of glass from his hands, then I tried to stop him from jumping from the window. I was afraid of the police saying that I had killed him, and I still didn’t have my legal documents.

We fought on the floor for what seemed like half an hour, and then he ran to the bathroom and locked himself inside.

I called his ex-girlfriend to help. I knew she would come because she was still in love with him and he had been cheating on me with her.

No one died that day, but he was still chasing me over a year later.

He had told me when I broke up with him that he would change, but deep inside me I knew he wasn’t going to.

And I was right. Many years later I met a girl who had been with him for a year, and she was having the same problems that I had had, and she was living life by his rules.

The only serious thing that happened after this was his father’s death. He  hanged himself in his bathroom. I didn’t care. Once, the client and I had a fight because I didn’t know how to drive his car, and he punched me in the head while I was trying to drive. I stopped the car and couldn’t stop shaking because I was so nervous. The police came because we were holding up the traffic. At the police station, his father showed up to pick him up, and the only thing his father said was, “Everything is because of this hooker.”

Chapter 13: The Day the Rabbit Betrayed Me

Dirty Bomb was very tight. I’m not sure about her body parts, but she was with money. She came from a very poor family from the countryside and had so many issues. Like all those sad stories.

But she was a nice girl, and she kind of became part my family, as I didn’t have any, and I helped her, not by introducing her to George, of course, but by getting her work as a model.

She asked if she could pay the rent after she got her first cheque from the agency. I was very touched by her life story, and I did believe in her. I guess even her family hadn’t believed in her.

I was a good flatmate; I even let her stay on my room and sleep in my bed, under my sheets, with my beautiful silk pillows.

No one betrays those they hate. I mean, people are more loyal to those they hate than those they love.

And I was that person. Without luck, you can’t even eat an ice lolly. I know that because one week I was eating one and I choked on the stick.

My ex-boyfriend fucked my flatmate. I didn’t think I needed to listen to my guest telling me beautiful stories about her beautiful new super-hot boyfriend all the time, but as a good friend, I just looked at her and smiled and said, “How lovely.” But I was thinking, “I don’t have family or even a dog. I have fucking bills to pay, and I have a friend telling me all day to stop to doing coke and start a diet soon and that being a vegetarian is very good for a happy society.”

After a hell of a month without a boyfriend, and therefore  without a sex life, I decided to buy a new vibrator. Someone told me once that the difference between a man and a vibrator was that vibrators don’t cut the grass.

Well, I didn’t have a garden.

That was the happiest day of the week. I was so excited in every way. I went in the morning to buy my new toy. I decided on the double rabbit one, and I quickly came back home.

Unfortunately, I had to go and do some charity work as an actress for a TV show. So I left my big friend in my wardrobe and went to work. After a hard-work, horny day, I finally came back home.

Dirty Bomb was asleep in my room with the door closed, so I discreetly took my baby to the bathroom.

I sat on the toilet, took my toy and started playing with myself. When I finally discovered how to use it, which didn’t take very long, and I started to have some fun, do you know what happened?

The fucking thing stopped working! But how? I had bought new batteries!

That fucking bitch had used my vibrator! You know, a girl can be very mad when she doesn’t come. I was so angry, I ran into my room with my new toy in my hands. I didn’t care anymore.

I just couldn’t believe it. Even my own vibrator had betrayed me. After this “lovely” week I made a very big decision. From that point on, I was going to keep extra batteries on hand.

After eight months of Dirty Bomb not paying the rent, my cleaner came up to me and said, “Miss Derek, I don’t want to put myself into your life, but I found these documents, and I thought you’d be interested in them.”

They were statements from Dirty Bomb’s modelling agency and bank. She had more than forty thousand pounds in her account.

Naive Derek! My cleaner and my personal trainer kicked her out of my house. I was too angry to do it.

Something I learned about people is that they never really change who they are inside. I never did, and neither did Dirty Bomb. No one will ever change their essence.

Some people change for a time, for whatever reason, but inside they will always be the same.

Maybe everything happens for a reason.

I heard once that in the scope of the universe, we are smaller than an ant is to us, but I don’t believe in that anymore. Everything happens for a reason, and, yes, what goes around comes around and what’s meant to be will be. That was my new philosophy. At least until I could find something new.