Terror Firsthand #27: What Happens Next?

 ©Terror Firsthand is a fictional blog series that was created in 2024. It is for entertainment purposes only, and I wrote it from the top of my head. Photos are reenactments and dramatization. The following story is for mature audiences only. Please, do not try any thing dangerous at home. 

Warning: extreme terror

Terror Firsthand: What Happens Next? 

After being in the shop for 24 hours, Big Ski came back in. 

"La Negra Reina, you can go. I've hired three more girls. The one you saw me with yesterday is the new owner. You can go back to the penthouse now." He said.

"So does that mean I don't work here anymore?" I asked.

"Unless you want to work for her I don't think you will." He said. "She likes women and you don't."

"Yeah you're right. I think I'm just going to leave. Don't even call me anymore Daddy Ski. You're rich now. I got evicted from the penthouse and you have a new woman. Then on top of that she's gay and I can't sleep with you because that's disgusting." I said.

"Fine then. Suit yourself." He said, and then I grabbed Big C and I left the store. 

I used the money I had left to check into a Golden Tree on the outskirts of Chicago. I was disgusted with Big Ski again. I was tired of his nasty ass stable of women. I did not want to work at his rainbow friendly ass dispensary either. I deserved to be treated much more humanely. That night while at the Golden Tree, he didn't try to call me or chase me. I knew it was over between me and him for real this time. 

I started applying for jobs, but I didn't get one. The reason I never get hired is because I don't have the experience and education that I'm supposed to have for the types of jobs that I apply for. For example, I'm the type to apply for a job as a journalist, but I never worked as an intern, nor do I have a degree in journalism, or any degree for that matter. That's why it's important to have an education. 

I applied for a job at a Gracie's General Store gas station, and they told me I could start the next day. The Indian guy said that I could be a fry cook, for the Crispy Chicken Shack attached to it. He said the pay would be $7 an hour. I told him okay. Then I realized, that I couldn't leave Big C at the Golden Tree alone, and that the Doggie Daycare would take my entire check. I told the guy nevermind, and then left out of the gas station. 

I decided to just sit inside the Golden Tree cabin. Then I got a text from Marcus Goldman.

One of your old tricks is up here to see you. He said he wants you back. Should I give him your number? You can keep the money. I'm not the same man I was before. 

I messaged him back and then said, 

Nah that's okay Marcus, I'm good. 

Then he messaged back and said,

Bi#ch I know you need the money. Don't act like that. You'll have all the money you need to pay for your little pet hotel bill and another penthouse.

I then texted back,

Nah I don't work for niggas that call me a bi#ch. 

After that I blocked his number. I don't work for niggas that kidnap and beat people up for nothing either. I knew that would piss him off, but I had to have some kind of respect for myself, even if those niggas didn't have any for me. 

I didn't want to leave Illinois, but I knew I was getting more unsafe near Marcus Goldman's sex trafficking operation's main headquarters. If he had 891 hoes in Chicago alone, how many did he have in Los Angeles, Virginia Beach, NYC, and Miami? I wasn't safe in it, and I wasn't safe without it. I just wasn't safe. I also knew that his operation stretched, and that he was all over the United States doing it. 

I felt regular again and stopped feeling like a local celebrity in Chicago. No more being surrounded by hundreds of half naked prostitutes, no more fly penthouse, no more ice, no more press, no more podcasts interviews, and no more stacks of money. All because I'm around Big Ski anymore. 

At a Golden Tree cabin in Illinois 

I was now back in a tiny one room cabin alone, trying to plan my next move. I'm a smart person. I'm pretty sure I'll get back up on my own again. I already ran a studio and a botanica on my own, so I should be okay. Like I said, I don't even want a botanica anymore so I decided to just stick to the studio. 

The first day I stayed in the cabin, I felt free. I was free from the horny gay men, free from a bunch of gross fa*got women, and free from Marcus Goldman and Big Ski. I never wanted to see them again. I spent all day reading and writing. I watched a little bit of TV and then went hiking for about 5 miles.

The next day, I woke up and cooked my favorite breakfast - A hearty bowl of cheesey grits, and fried lemon pepper whiting fish. Then I watched the episode of me on the Get On Yo Knees podcast. My followers on Instagram started to rise. I had hired a social media specialist went I was with Big Ski. 

I stayed in the cabin for 7 more days and then I decided that I didn't want to be in Illinois anymore, so I drove back to the east coast. I went to Norfolk, Virginia, and checked in at another cheap, raggedy Blue Roof motel. There were junkies and queers hanging out all over the place, but I still checked in there. 

I tried to book another Golden Tree cabin somewhere, but all of them were booked for the rest of the summer. My luck was really running out, and the money that I spent on the Golden Tree cabin pass was going to waste. I couldn't find any available cabin in the whole United States of America. The stack of money that Big Ski had given me already ran out, and I had nothing left. The penthouse that I was living at in Illinois was $50,000 a month. I really missed the penthouse. It was nice living there. It was the richest, fanciest, cleanest, most comfortable house that I had ever lived in. Unfortunately, that experience was extremely short lived. I was back in the dirty, filthy, poverty infested, trenches now, surrounded by bums, bullies, and yucky gay fiends.

Fiends hanging at Blue Roof Motel in Norfolk 

After I got to Norfolk, I started having flashbacks of being at the Blue Roof with Ghana Bwoy and Emanuela. I started crying. They were both dead. I was happy because they were evil people, but hurt at the same time. I didn't want to get raped by those transsexuals. 

My phone was extremely dry while I was at Blue Roof Motel. No one tried to call me. I stayed there for two nights, then I went to back to a place called LP Casa to see if I could stay there for a small monthly fee. Living there is basically like affordable housing, except I only get one room, not a whole apartment. There's no privacy because I have to share a house with other people. 

When I arrived at LP Casa, I started casting for a new music video. I posted an ad on a site called, VideoModelsForHire.Com. I scheduled the casting call for one week away. I recieved one or two replies, and that's all. After that, I went to a nearby social service building and asked for financial assistance and food stamps out of extreme desperation. It was a better option than prostitution and the Crispy Chicken Shack. I was also able to get a free gift card for Big C, just for stopping by the office. After I left the social service building, I went to a pet store in Virginia Beach to go on a shopping spree. 

The two men that replied to my response said that they would be at the casting call. I didn't need a lot of people. I wasn't rich, and I have to have millions or billions of streams just to receive a decent looking royalty check. 

On the day of the casting call, neither of the two men showed up. I was devastated. More money that I spent on the office space was lost. I waisted money on the office space that I rented and wasted money on the ad fee on VideoModelsForHire. The office space was $180 an hour, and the ad placement was $20. I didn't even know what to do when I got inside of the empty office. 

I tried to leave and get a refund from the host, but I could not get one. So I sat there for an hour, trying to find more actors that would show up, but no one came, so I left. I deleted my VideoModelsForHire account and asked for a refund, which was approved. I knew that I wouldn't have any actors or dancers in my next music video. I gave up and stopped searching for them.