Genevieve, Homeless, Living In A Dirty Alley, Dying Alone. Her Story. Poetry Included.

Genevieve was an only child living in the suburbs in a modest brick house with a white picket fence in St. Louis, Missouri.

She was an above average student with a host of neighborhood friends. Her mother Ruth was a nurse. Her father worked for the Briggs oil company. Their life was good. They attended The First Baptist Church near by.

Genevieve was popular and active in school activities. Her parents, members of the PTA.

Life was good until that fateful day when both parents were killed instantly in a head-on collision on I 55. Genevieve had spent the weekend with her friend Amy while her parents had traveled to the city on business and to take in a show.

She was eighteen and had just graduated from high school. The only good thing remaining in her life was money. It seemed both parents had purchased life insurance, enough that she would never hurt for anything.

She stayed around home for a year, always planning on going to college, but she was restless and wanted to see the big city. Maybe she would enroll in The St. Louis University? She wasn't sure.

She drove her Honda CRV packed with clothing and some special keepsakes her mother had given her through the years.

When Genevieve arrived she went to the YMCA where they had apartments located next door. She joined and rented a two bedroom on the first floor. She was so very unsure what she was looking for. Her life changed overnight after her parents' death. She was so restless and depressed.

One evening as she stepped out of her apartment she almost ran over an older man coming out of his apartment next door. She apologized for stepping on his feet. He laughed and told her, " No harm done and he was glad to meet her. " They struck up a conversation and she felt at ease, the first time in quite awhile. He told her his name was Richard and he was sixty-five years old and retired.

They were enjoying a movie on TV in his apartment when he asked her if she'd ever done any drugs? She told him " No not ever " He then said that she seemed depressed, and he had something to make her feel better. When he showed her a syringe, she said, " An injection, haven't you got a pill? " He told her that this was much faster and better.

From the first injection, she was hooked! She began to roam the streets, forever looking for the next fix. Soon her money was gone and so was her friend Richard. She ended up in a district where the dirty alleys welcomed all who needed a home.

Silence thickens the putrid, stagnant, night air

Genevieve's young voice muffled, life taken without a care

Her unspoken words would open truths best left unsaid

The hopelessness of awakening the unmoving dead

To roam the earth unfulfilled, undone

Best to let lie, coffin closed, no witness to smoking gun

Her spirit atoned, yet remains incomplete

Her life ended on a dirty back alley street

He used her until there was nothing left to take

Her searching for peace away from the promised fire and brimstone lake

Innocence lost when she was just nineteen

Her friend was never charged, a man held in high esteem

Today he treads slowly, crippled, aged and full of disdain

He cheats death daily, refusing to go there, fearing the excruciating pain

Reliving the dreadful deed, feeling remorse but unable to find any inward relief

Bedridden, sipping from a straw, the Grim reaper waiting, enjoying the painful grief.