Dead End Justice

     The cold started to settle in the car as dusk broke out through the night sky. Faint purples and blues faded into the black abyss like flowerpedals running away in the wind. The moon wasn't visible through the smoke of clouds that painted the gloomy sky. And I, the juvenile in distress, could only shiver. I couldn't run, I couldn't hide, and I certainly couldn't hug my dad and snuggle into the comforting warmth of his bulging belly. Actually, I couldn't do that to anyone. Not to my ma, not to my sister, and not to anyone my ma hooks up with.
      A nice white house with rich, scarlet shutters flashed pass us and we started to slow down. A slight joy raised in my throat, maybe my ma had picked a rich guy this time. Yeah, a wealthy guy. He could still be a jerk, but at least he would have some sort of manners. While mentally scolding myself for my brief prejudice against the poor, my stomach flipped threateningly for not having eaten today.
      The car still lurched forward and the homes went from wealthy and clean to dirty and streetwalker town. Dark alleys, drug-dealers, strippers, you name it! It was there. It was all there. Guys that looked like hungry felines strutted the street, chicks with small waists and little clothing pranced around seductively.      
     Finally, we had arrived at a house that was moldy colored and had a couple beer bottles strewn across its untamed front lawn. This was the last house that I wanted to see, let alone visit for hours on end.
Little did I know that later on I would be thinking the exact opposite.