Operation: One percent

Chapter 5 -part two

Margaret

Time passed, and I started seeing that "a lot of money" back when I just started, was actually not that much at all when I grew up. However, the post-offs changed their prices every now and then, and there was no way to know how much money will it be next time, so I had to keep on working.

I tried to change jobs, but no one would hire me.

A virtuous person would think, why would you want to sell your body in the first place?

But then again, a virtuous person would never be associated with the likes of me, so having that conversation never really occurred.

Over-the-counter antidepressants were not sold anymore by the pharmacies, and one could only obtain them from a suspicious-looking persona, in an alley, thirty minutes away from my apartment at the time.

They weren't actually anti-depressants, they were merely called that way by the general folk, which was ironic considering the effect that they had. 

No one knew what they actually contained, but it was a necessary evil, as they were cheaper than the price of post-off. They would numb the person, making them emotionless. It didn't take long for me to use them in an effort to save money.

Occasionally, a bounty hunter would drop by, just wanting a quick release.

Some were talkative by nature, others were not, but they all would lower their guard once they had a drink or two, especially when they think that you are harmless.

I remember, that night a post by the government would be applied, at midnight exactly. I had no credits for the antidepressant, let alone to pay off the post.

Only 6 hours remained until midnight, and who knows what kind of thought I would be releasing if I don't manage it.

A retired bounty hunter made her way into the brothel lounge. It was a woman in her 60s, wearing 1950s fashion.

My boss, and my unofficial stepmother, came to me in a panic.

"Margaret, you have to help me."

"I am not working overtime if that's what you want."

"Please, I will give you 20 000 credits if you help me."

A tempting offer and it was a 4 months salary for me.

"Who is it this time? Do I have to serve some old geezer and his friends?"

Older customers were pretty rare, but most were twisted, sexually frustrated, and aggressive and as a result of their heinous nature, the girls avoided them. Women no longer married for love, at least that was true for the women that I worked with. Rare were the girls that actually found love after this profession, simply because they have lost faith in the devotion of men and women to their partners. I shared the notion with them of people's inability to be faithful as most of the people that were our customers were in fact married.

"No, you need to kill someone for me."

I stopped in my tracks.

"You seem to have taken some mushrooms, or have gone completely insane. Please take some medicine if you haven't already."

"Maggie, you WILL do this for me, otherwise, you and Maryam will be on the streets."

I was dumbfounded. She never threatened with such a thing, even when I gave her hell. And yeah, maybe our relationship was not on the best of terms, but we kept our interactions civil. 

She must have realized what I thought, by the look on my face, and she continued:" I am not threatening you, but my life is in danger, and if I am gone, this business will crumble."