I didn’t reply back but then, that was the time, I got my dirty mind running. I wanted her on my bed. I imagined her husky voice, those decent boobs, long hair, and bouncy ass.I was eagerly waiting for a chance every day. Time was passing by and she would leave in a month. I was desperately hoping for a chance and one day, I came to know that she wasn’t feeling well and hence didn’t come to the office that day. So, that evening, I paid a visit to the hotel room. I then came to know the actual reason. She had fought with her best friend because he thought she was giving him less priority these days. I told her that both would be fine, but she broke down and was crying. I then decided to take her out and told her to get ready. She reluctantly came out with me and I took her to the restaurant downstairs of the hotel. I consoled her a lot and touched her hand. She immediately pulled it back. It was an awkward moment for both of us. To calm down the situation, I asked her if she would. Zoe stared, mouth gaping open, unable to move, or think or feel. She witnessed her mother’s fruitless attempt to explain, she saw the evidence and while only being thirteen years old was by no means a dummy. She knew her mother had just shot up with heroine. Zoe, without making a sound, reached up, grabbed the bathroom door handle and slowly closed it behind her. She walked, step by step to her room. She crawled into bed, reached out, pulled Roger’s furry body into her own, rolled to her side, stared blankly at the wall and began to weep. It wouldn’t be the last time Zoe found solace in the embrace of her purple monkey Roger and the solitude of staring at the wall. For the next three months, every time she saw her mother and knew she was high she would slowly walk to her room, grab Roger and continue her position staring at the wall and sobbing. This would happen three to four times a week for the next three months. She would come into the kitchen, see her mother with that drugged.
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