𝗟𝗘𝗧𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝟮 𝗠𝗬 𝗨𝗡𝗕𝗢𝗥𝗡 ━━━━━ 𝘁𝘂𝗽𝗮𝗰 𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗸𝘂𝗿.

prolouge.

.   .   .

"I can't have you living in my home if you gon' be out stripping!"

My eyes turned to look at my mother as she shouted at me, her finger pointing accusingly. My father stood by her side, silent but with evident anger in his posture. Confusion filled my mind as what I thought would be a normal day after work turned into a heated argument with my parents after finding out I've been stripping.

And now they wanted to kick me out.

"Mom, I had to, I didn't-"

"What you mean you had to, there's other jobs out there, and this is what you choose to do?" She shouted louder, her words cutting into me. I instinctively pulled back as her voice pierced through my ears.

Squinting, I turned to my father, hoping he would say something, but he just wore a 'listen to your mother' expression. I feel stupid, hopeless, and completely misunderstood. I have nowhere to go.

"What do you think the church is gonna think when they find out my daughter's a stripper?" she continued, folding her arms. I remained quiet, holding back my words. "You've embarrassed me, your father, and our family." Her words felt like a punch to my heart.

My head turned towards my father, who speaks sternly. "Your mother's right, I'm so disappointed in you Sanai, why didn't you take a job alike your sister instead of stripping?"

His words made me think. He was the only one willing to seek understanding, but still clearly upset. My mother runs her hands through her hair, trying to calm herself down. "I've tried, I tried. . . everything. They wouldn't employ me, and I- needed money quickly for college."

Aggravated, my mother turned to look at me, preparing to shout, but my father interjected, attempting to bring reason into the situation. "You shouldn't have resulted to selling your body Sanai."

I fiddle with my fingers, guilt washing over me. "Exactly. I never thought you'd ever do such a thing," my mother shouted, her eyes filled with disappointment and anger. "You my youngest, I adore you, and now I don't want you to live in my house anymore."

Tears welled up, blurring my vision. A sense of hopelessness fills me, as all I see is a hopeless future fill up my mind. "Mom, you can't kick me out. I have nowhere to-"

"That's too bad," she sighs. "Go stay with your cousins, your sister, or someone!" My father shook his head beside her, and a tear rolled down my cheek. I buried my face in my hands, feeling the weight of shame.

"Pick up your stuff and leave. I don't want to see you here tomorrow morning," she finishes, her voice trembling. She walked away, leaving only my father and me in the room.

Desperately, my eyes lifted to look at him once more. He noticed my tears, but he didn't speak. Instead, he pressed his fingers to his nose bridge and let out a deep sigh, showing his own distress. The silence weighed heavily in the room, and I wept, a hand coming up to wipe my eyes.

If only they'd give me a second chance.

I walked into my bedroom, preparing to leave the place I had once called home. I closed the door, resting my back against it, and continued to cry, letting out the emotions I had carried for the past few months.

The room that had once held comforting memories now felt like a mockery. My decisions had led me to this painful moment, leaving the familiar for the unknown. Everything was dark and blurry through my tears—the posters, the records, the books. All of it had to go, but I couldn't find the strength to begin the humiliating process of moving my own stuff out.

I cried and cried, feeling the weight of my choices.

I really was leaving. This was it.