@FuckinPrompts Prompt Response: Sapphire by SixEighty


by SixEighty

She was my white trash vixen.

“Get your bum ass outta here ya piece of shit!”

The burly doormen threw me out handily. It didn’t take as much effort as they put in. I’m sure they were aiming for the road. I landed in a heap and tried to roll to my feet, but the cheap whiskey and shit beer had knocked that out of my grasp.

My trailer park Aphrodite.

I lay on the ground, world twisting and spinning. I managed to slap my hands on the asphalt and pull one of my feet from under my sorry ass. Another second later, or however long it was, my second foot plated itself and I rose up.

“Please! Sapphire… I love you!”

“Fuck off!”

I clasped my hands together and pressed them to my chest. “You’re breaking my heart… Please…”

Hot as a dumpster fire

Sapphire came out from behind the doormen and walked up to me. Everything moved in slow motion as she came, her belly ring slapping against her skin. Her shorts rode up higher than Radio Pete’s shit signal tower. Her boots sparkled and danced elusively as the diamanté gems caught the daylight. She wore a tied bikini top that barely covered the nipple tassels which she was so famous for…

And twice as dangerous

With a swift movement she landed a heavy slap on my cheek and again, my ass found the asphalt and I had lost my grip on the world.

“Sapphire… Please…”

I heard the metal door slam shut and reached up for the blue sky ahead of me. It was another cloudless day, yet my heart was filled with storms. A fierce rainstorm that stole the light of the day and its name was;


It hadn’t always been like this. She had liked me at one point. About 3 years ago, I had just finished my 4th shot of whiskey, just before the blurriness kicked in, when I spotted her, sparkling like meth in the moonlight, being harassed by 2 junkies. I knew then and there that she was the one. There was a burning in my gut, a shard in my heart and my pulse beat faster than it had after that $15 all you can eat meat platter from Steak it or Break it. I went over to help, then the next thing I know I was getting punched in the face.

The whiskey had dulled my sense of pain, but also my speed as the second punch landed in my gut. They push me, slamming my back against the wall. I swung wild and connected with one of them, but it wasn’t enough, as feet began to crash into my side. As I fell to my knees, the blows rained down hard, then suddenly stopped. Looking to the side, I could see that the stripper I had tried to help had gotten one of them in a headlock and the other in what I can only describe as a ‘ball-lock’. There was a ferociousness in that face that made my heart explode and my pants tighten like never before.

It skipped a few moments again, then I saw her face up close.

“Are you ok? Thank’s fer earlier… Those men wuh pricks.”

“Um fuhn.”

I wasn’t sure if it was the whiskey or the punches.

“Fuck… You’re totalled… C’mon, I’m takin’ ya backstage”

The memory skips through here, as she washed the blood off my face, and helped me out of my shirt. Then she un-dressed and we fucked in the dressing room, dancers coming and going, but they left us alone. That night I promised her the world, as we curled up on the ratty sofa in the backroom of a strip joint.

A car horn blared my head back to the real world. I sat upright, but it took a few seconds for my head to catch up.

“Get outta the road asshole! Ya tryin’ to get yaself killed!?”

People shouted as I rose to my feet. The world was spinning slower, but it was still spinning. Patting my pockets, I searched for my smokes and pulled out a crumpled cardboard box of Luckies. I took out my last whole cigarette and patted down for a lighter. The box wasn’t empty, but still contained several half smoked ends, just in case. Lighting up, I stumbled down the alley next to the strip joint and relieved my bladder against an old newspaper petrified to the side of the building, and begin my routine stumble home.

West Oaks trailer park. It was a shithole, but it was my shithole. Also, Sapphire lived there, so I stumbled down to her van. If I passed out long enough, she might get home and I’d be a lot more sober than I was. Maybe she would listen that time? It was all so good before…



Author: SixEighty (@six_writing)

Prompt By: Fuckin’ Prompts (@FuckinPrompts)

Edited by: Katherine Marshall (@LegitKJMarshall)