When I was out there, it was post Pickton. I was still working at the coffee shop, was being maintained on methadone and basically functioning normally. I remember when the newspaper came out with Mona Wilson's picture in the upper right hand side and it said missing since Nov. 30th. That is what I remember anyways. I knew Mona Wilson, but just through circumstance. Her and her bf/husband used to come into my store and steal/try to steal commuter mugs and other stuff. We had banned them, but they always came back. I really had a dislike for the both of them. I had no idea what their story was, so in my ignorance, I decided to NOT be on their side. Ironically, I ended up doing a bunch of dope and provided services w/ her bf way after the fact. He told me about when she went missing. He said he knew right away something was wrong. They had been together forever, and he always knew how to find her.
Then her picture was on the paper, and the horrible reality was uncovered and shared with all. I remember the morning that particular paper came out and my idiot, loser boss, who was so NOT empathetic to anything she has no understanding of or for anything she has never been exposed to [which is basically seventy (that is being generous) percent of society]. Here I am struggling with my own addiction, being sort of stable by my methadone - and she sees that this woman we were familiar with was missing. She said "you know, I think they should take all the drug addicts/HIV + individuals, etc and drop them on an island have them kill themselves off". What an arsehole. It even sounds cliche when I type it, but it is what she said. Not verbatim, but basically.
But this isn't the story I meant to tell.
Let me give a shout out to my friend *R*, who actually WAS a friend of mine, regardless of our dealings. He battled his own demons, and I wouldn't hurry to call him a scumbag, as I do with most males I have mentioned in my writings. I swear to you I never met another person that could go through withdrawal with as much dignity as this guy. No bitching, no whining, just deal with it, and over. We lost touch when I left my life down there, and he ended up calling my parents (he knew my last name) about a year ago, to find out if I was alive or what. He is doing very well, he is clean and is working for the city or something. He had contracted hep c too, maybe from me, if I am to be honest, and has completed his treatment and is now waiting to see if it it stays gone. It was he that told me this story.
As I said, it was after "Pickton" when I was out there working, but it was not something that forgotten down there by anyone. Didn't phase things though, life stops for no one.
My friend told me about this girl we both knew that had gotten picked up my the man himself. *R* claimed she told him this, as she was one of his customers.
Pickton had picked her up, and told her he would give her $100 bucks (or so) to buy dope, to come back to his place in Poco for ... whatever. Sex, who knows. She agreed. She gets there and sits down at a table and commences to do her dope. While she is at it, I guess he came up behind her and ended up quickly cuffing her to the table, to the table leg or something. Maybe to himself, I can't remember, but I don't think it was that. This woman was no small woman. She was not fat, but she wasn't small, she was a tough woman. He slapped the cuff on her, and she freaks. I guess he had a knife or there was one near by and she grabbed it and ended up stabbing him in the stomach and ends up getting away somehow. I seem to remember there was talk of how Pickton was actually charged previously with some crime, maybe false imprisonment or something, but he was acquitted because she had stabbed him first. I am assuming this woman was the one that inspired this tale, truth or no.
As I have said in my "disclaimer", I am not saying that any of this is true. I realize that it sounds like an urban myth or something, and it may just be that. All I know, is that if it was her, she is one lucky lady. I know I read that they found Mona Wilson's DNA, one of the first found, and that her head was found in a bucket, head split down the middle, and that a dildo had been fashioned over a gun also had her DNA on it. That is just too gruesome and a horrible, awful way for anyone to die. I don't even have words for it. No one deserves that, well, maybe he does. I also read that one of the witnesses had described seeing a girl strung up upside down, being "bled". She remembered her painted toenails. You know, it is even more horrible that so many women were missing and all the mistakes were made for this to be missed as long as it did.
The message is: it really could have been me. When I would discuss it with others or with some family member that would track me down, and ask me "you know, aren't you afraid of someone like HIM getting you and murdering you?". And I would reply that no, I wasn't. I seemed to think that I would never go all the way to Poco with just a hundred bucks worth of dope, with a guy that smelled awful and was dirty (I read that, plus he must have been). But when I think now, what nonsense. I would have gone anywhere with him if the price was right. I have done truly humiliating things for much less, as I mentioned in my previous posts. I also used to tell myself that I looked too good to be one of the girls he would pick up. HE looked for girls that wouldn't be missed. And surely I wasn't that.
But I was. I mean, I wasn't, as they weren't. But I was just like them, and it COULD have been me.
Bless those women, and I hope that wherever they are now, it is much more pleasant than the misery they experienced in this life.
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