Boulevard of broken dreams (my first short story)

They had nothing, only their love and the needles in their veins. They did not have anything, and neither would they. Let’s refer to them simply as He and She. He had run away from home when he was 8, his last memory in the house was his father totally drunk hitting his mother with the belt. She, had run away from home at age 10, her last memory was her father chasing her trying to rape her. They were gone, they had no dreams, they died young. One day they met, he was drunk, she was doing the street, you need to eat, right? He was pissing in the corner, she was going down from a car, wiping her mouth, her ass sore. She was crying. He approached her, offered her some wine, she accepted. After that they met their dealer and bought their drug. They went into a public bathroom. Dug the needle in their arms, she first, he after. They awoke to the noise on the door, it was the police that came to take them, to disturb their dream. She dreamed of a big family, a house with a pool, a husband. He dreamed of a Mercedes benz, castles, harley davidson. The police walked into, handcuffed them, put them in the car, not before they touched her everywhere. Damned pigs … After a while they set them free, they wanted information, they did not know anything, they were innocents. From jail they went tumbling down the street. They needed money. They stole a couple of bags. They needed more drug. They stole a pack of cigarettes that finished in two hours. They went to a kiosk, stole a bottle of wine. The manager chased them several blocks away screaming, they gave back the insults. This was their life. They had nothing, neither would they have. Sleeping under bridges, reeked of sperm, wine, dirt. They were in love. At the end she was killed by a client, a bullet in the head, poom, he throw her in the river. The pigs imprisoned her boy accused of armed robbery, there he was abused in every way possible. He always dreamed of her. He woke up crying, behind bars. One day He thought about suicide. The next day He tried. This story ends like this, without a happy ending. Reality does not always have happy endings. Nobody cried. No one knew of their death. They died with nothing, as they lived. But, the years they were together they could dream of true love.

(note : my apologies for the harsh narrative, I didn’t knew how to translate it so I take some help from google translate … it is my first short story. I hope you enjoyed, thanks for reading)