June 2015
Destiny Smith didn’t like the music at this festival anymore.
It was fun at first, but now the acid rock music in Louis Armstrong Park was grating on her last nerve.
Her fix was gone. Her buzz wearing thin.
And it was so crowded she could barely move.
People moshed around her in a wild, rhythmic dance.
An elbow landed in her cheek, and Destiny screamed and shoved back.
She enjoyed New Orleans when she first arrived.
The people were nice, and the drugs were even nicer.
Everyone seemed to want to share. This park was good too.
Safe. Safer than her house in Birmingham.
And she found a job. A shit job dancing on Bourbon, thanks to her fake ID, but the tips were good.
Soon, she’d have enough saved to get to California.
She’d clean up there. Live next to the ocean.
Meet a sweet boy who wouldn’t hurt her. Maybe she’d let her mom visit her one day. Maybe. If she cleaned up too.
Destiny pushed her way through the drunken crowd, with no idea of where she was going.
“Excuse me,” a voice in the crowd said. “Hey, you.”
Destiny turned. A flash went off in her face. She held her hands up. “What the fuck!”
“Say cheese.”
“Cheese, motherfucker.” And Destiny punched him.
He stumbled, but he didn’t fall. He smiled.
Every warning bell in Destiny’s tiny body sounded.
She knew this type of man. She saw it in his eyes.
He was trouble. She turned to run, but he was quick and grabbed her ponytail.
Destiny yelled, but her voice was lost in the loud music of the festival.
Then something stung her neck, and she couldn’t scream anymore.
All she could do was fall into his shoulder and whimper for her mom to please come get her.