Marla

Marlena was a hot Puerto Rican Chick I met off like San Pablo and Ashby in Oakland.  She was walking like off San Pablo near that MacDonald's and Urban Salvage.  There happens to also be an Italian mafia club right around there.  She lived like three blocks off there down a street  I won't name.
Look, way back in the day, I dated this girl for like two years.  It wasn't until two months after I broke up with her and she had a huge blowout with her mom that I found out she had been addicted to opiates the whole time we were dating, and when her mom kicked her out I let her stay at my place, because I didn't want her homeless and on the street. She started whoring herself to support her habit.  Understand that there was no sex involved between us at this point. Or even any exchange of money except gas money for me to drive her to the stroll.  And I would watch over her to make sure she was safe and didn't get kidnapped or anything like that.  Some might say that I was pimping her; but I really wasn't.  I just was emotionally invested in her, and making sure that she didn't end up dead in a ditch somewhere.  How did it end?  One day she left for a project in Oakland for a couple of days.  She got arrested for selling drugs to support her habit.  Her mom bailed her out (I had to call her mom to tell her Marla was under arrest, and her mom at first thought she was dead.  I can still remember her reaction when I told her "I want to talk to you about something serious about your daughter," and her reaction was "Ay Dios mío!  Is she dead?"  And I was like, no; but she's been arrested).  Her mom bailed her out, and they started to have a dialogue; but her mom still wouldn't let her back in the house.  One night, she went batshit insane, she started insulting me, and it got me pissed off.  I started drinking and got more aggressive.  I told her to shut her mouth or look for another place where someone would let her stay for free.  A couple of days later, she asked me to drop her off at that project again.
I didn't hear from her again for two years.  She'd been arrested for slinging drugs again, while out on bail.  This time they didn't let her bail out, and I wasn't about to get up in the middle of the night to open a car for her.  By that point I was working construction and had an early day.  I hope she got off the drugs; but I think she probably didn't.  One time I saw her while driving down San Pablo hanging out with a dude, probably an actual pimp.  I don't know if she recognized me, and I don't care.  My car was fucking up (ignition problems, and BTW, if you have ignition problems, replace the rotor on your distributor first.  If your car doesn't have a distributor, replace your pussy with a dick and a pair of balls, asshole.  The only exception to the asshole clause is if you have an LS family engine, in which case you have to test every one of those coils, and they are expensive, or if it's a diesel, replace the glowplugs; but that should only be a problem at startup) so I had to pull over in front of them. Kind of uncomfortable.  But they didn't approach me, and I'm pretty sure they understood that if they tried to fight me I would have shot them both.
Addiction is a hell of a thing.
Whenever I thought of her, I thought of this song:
Three Marlenas
I remember all kinds of things about her.  She liked to go to White Castle, and this one pizza place I don't remember the name of; but I could drive there if I were anywhere in the area.  She loved Dr. Pepper, and sour candy. She also sometimes liked to go to McDonald's.  When she was nice, she was really nice, and when she was a bitch  I had to yell at her not to be such a bitch.  Also, she smoked a lot.  At least a pack a day.  I hope she doesn't get lung cancer.
One more thing about her.  Just like with Crystal, when I met Marlena, she was only 17.  Just about to turn eighteen; but still, 17.  She told me she was 21 though.  It wasn't until much later that I found out her real age, and did the math that I realized she was 17 when I first met her.  Below the age of consent in California.  Still, she had already fucked the football coach at her school, which got the guy fired, and while I didn't know it, she was pregnant from a drug dealer when I first met her (She didn't show.  I never knew until after she gave birth)  There is a girl somewhere in Oakland that has the impression of my dick on her forehead.  If you see her, tell her I said hi.  Also I'll adopt that girl at the drop of a hat, because she needs a father figure, and pimps and drug dealers are not it.
I think her grandmother actually adopted her, though.  Still, no father figure.  That is important to a kid.
I was able to weather my insecurities from not knowing my father until I was 10 years old. My brother, however, is fucking nuts.  I will have to kill him if I ever see him again.