Lowlife Poppy Novels & Stories

But I kept my composure, letting him finish. He quickly added, his tone turning patronizing, "You see, not everything Poppy says can be taken at face value. She’s been on medication for years, ever since she was a child, until she turned twelve. The medicine affected her mind, so you can’t believe everything she tells you, Faith. She might not always have a clear grasp on reality."

Poppy’s breaths came louder, more ragged. “Mother, don’t fall for it,” Penelope snapped. “She’s pretending. Trying to get out of seeing Mr. Yan. But we both know she has to do it or the family goes bankrupt.” Poppy shook her head violently. That wasn’t true. She didn’t even know what they were talking about anymore. “In... inha—ler,” she gasped. Laura’s eyes widened. “Go get her inhaler. Now!” “Ew. I’m not going in there,” Penelope recoiled. She had never been to Poppy's room and she was never going in there.

Poppie went through so many withdrawal symptoms I didn’t know if she would make it - she was going through itbad. She had tremors, convulsions and even hallucinations. She looked like she was dying right in front of me. Shespaced outat times that I had to check on her to see if she was still breathing. I cried for her because she was in so much pain and discomfort, I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t take it away and I felt horrible. It had gotten so bad, that I found myself praying to God that she would wake up the next day feeling just a little bit better. Seven days went by and Poppie emerged from the bedroom one night as I was watching tv.

“The cartel owns 100 thousand acres of poppy fields. Ten kilos per harvest, equating to approximately 13,000 dollars. But that’s merely the tip of the iceberg. As you travel further in the US, the profits multiply exponentially.” He talked with a cold sense of satisfaction, as though he was describing a significant accomplishment instead of a terrifying reality. I was struggling to breathe, the weight of his words tightening around my throat like a noose. “I was born in this life, Summer,” he continued. “There’s no way out for me.” I recoiled, my hand instinctively covering my mouth. “Is it true that you have cops and judges on your payroll?” I dreaded hearing the answers but still needed to

"What ails you? You look so... unhappy." Poppy let out a bitter laugh. "Unhappy? Oh, Francis, you have no idea. I am a prisoner of my own desires, a slave to my appetites. And now, as I grow old and weak, I find that those appetites have abandoned me, leaving me with nothing but the bitter taste of regret." Francis reached out, taking Poppy's hand in his own. "Your Highness," he said, his voice gentle. "You have lived a life of great pleasure and indulgence. You have tasted delights that most can only dream of. Surely that is worth something?"

he replied. I blinked. "What the fuck is a popper?" I asked him. He was hesitant for a while. He even began to stutter. "Speak!" "It's a drug that ignites sexual feeling. She also paid the men I organized for her to drug you during the occasion. " I nodded my head and thanked him for the information. "Triple the payment Lisa gave the maid. The drink would be served. But to the person who bought the drug." End of flashback.

God knows from how many days. I kept crying with my baby in my arms. Is this my life. . . . Please like and comment. Thank you.

I groan, wishing I could scream into my phone for answers. “I’m convinced she’s in it for his money. Not only that, but Courtney Roberts was already a household name when the two started dating. This Ophelia woman has a few measly, mediocre songs published online, and now, suddenly, her numbers explode the day we film our podcast? I’m not buying it. The moment you all learned of her, you did the same thing I did. You speculated.

"Thank you, Poppy. I appreciate it." Poppy’s eyes twinkled with happiness. "That’s a good boy." Adeline said with a pout, “Poppy, you never give money to my boyfriends.” Poppy shot back, “if I start giving money to every boy you introduce to me, I would have to sell my house.” Everyone laughed and Adeline pouted. "I don’t know for how long I will be alive,” Poppy suddenly began. "Poppy, please!" Anastasia, Adeline, and Austin exclaimed at the same time.

I started, holding back any sort of emotional tone as best as I could, "...I just miss my old life, I guess is my point." "Aka, look," Poppy said, looking at me directly, "Don't get all mushy over any of that. Once we get outta here, you can have your old life back, so don't worry!" Her upbeat attitude helped a bit, but once we looked away and continued walking, all I could think was, "IF, we get out of here."