• County Lines

I’ve Done It

I’ve fucking gone and published this blog, because after 4 anonymous reports to Crimestoppers, an email to the local Victim Hub, an email to Victim Support asking for advice and two police officers witnessing first hand the situation; fuck all has been done.

I can’t get out myself, everyday I try. I ask nicely, then demand, then beg and NOTHING works. I’ve asked my so called ‘best mate’ to do a tip off, as have I my ex boyfriend. I have been upfront and direct with these guys- and I quote;

“I DON’T WANT YOU DEALING DRUGS FROM MY HOME. I DEMAND THAT YOU LEAVE AND NOT COME BACK”.

EVERYDAY I vocalise it, text it, email it and carry on going round in circles. But everyday I am trapped in this hell. Yes I’m a drug addict- judge me all you want. But I don’t get paid for this, nobody throws me an extra shot here and there. And like I’ve said before- WHO WOULD ACCEPT PAYMENT FOR LETTING DRUG DEALERS TAKE OVER YOUR HOME?!?!?

I pay for everything I buy. I lay on my back, spread my legs and earn the money to fund my habit. Every dealer has certain ‘deals’ they hand out. Normally 16 for £100. I get 10 for £100. I pay the rent, electric, WI-FI, hot water, TV, food, clothes, debts…you name it, I pay for it. And you know what it feels like to prostitute yourself to fund others lives? It feels like I’m being raped repeatedly everytime I have to open my legs.

My mental health has gone to shit. I’m on a constant mission to find a way of committing suicide whereby I have enough time to die.

This gang have rinsed Nike Air Max 97’s (£145), Adidas, Ellesse, Armani and North Face tracksuits out of me (up to £180 per tracksuit), more £150 worth pairs of trainers, designer clothes, 3 meals a day (all ordered from restaurants and takeaways refusing anything else), I’ve been their personal slave.

Oh…and I’ve still yet to sleep in my bed. Or anywhere for that matter. Which is why its 5.32 and im awake sat on the uncomfortable broken armchair crying silent tears this time of fury.

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