The hot water beat down on her flesh, but no amount of scrubbing could remove the filth she felt deep within. Even after thirteen months on the corner she was not able to accept that she had let her life spiral to such degradation. An A+ student to a first-rate whore was not quite the fairy tale life she ever expected she would live.
"Yo, Sweets you about done in there. I'm ready for round two," Yelled her gentlemen of the evening. She was already almost three hours in, and she knew staying too much longer meant Marks would have more than just his cut.
With a quick twist of her wrist, she turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. The room was so full of steam she could barely see the mirror across the room. She grabbed the Hampton Beach beach towel from the hook next to the shower and wrapped it around herself. As she approached the mirror she began to quiver. The reflection, though distorted by the fog on the glass, looked nothing like her. She stopped for a second half expecting someone to lunge at her through some hidden hole in the wall.
"Daina," She heard a female voice say. The voice was soft and sweet almost like an angel coming down from heaven to rescue her from the Hell she had been living in.
"Who just said that. This is not funny," Daina said a bit louder than she probably should have. She was reminded of being a freshman in high school, when everyone used to call her Dizzy Daina. Everyone thought she was crazy back then except her mom. Though nowadays even Daina thought getting arrested would lead to a straight jacket and men in white coats.
"Yo, you say somethin Sweetness," asked her gentleman caller just about giving her a heart attack.
"Jesus! No, I'll be out in a sec," she yelled back through the closed door. "Mindless middle-aged sack of testosterone," she mumbled under her breath as she turned back to the mirror. Though when she turned back the mirror was a crystal-clear reflection of herself. Which only made things worse because now not only was she crazy, but she also looked like hell. Her raggedy hair, boney figure, and being paler than a ghost on Halloween made her wonder why men even picked her up. Though Marks would probably just sum it up to good marketing and a will to survive. With a disgusted curl of her upper lip she turned and proceeded to dry off and get dressed.
She wiggled into her form fitting purple floral dress and headed out into the bedroom of his apartment. The man that had been sprawled out on the bed trying to catch his breath just a few minutes ago was now standing before her looking like she just shot his dog.
"So, you like to start from scratch. I like that," he said, placing his left hand on her shoulder and pulling her in for a kiss.
"Actually no, I have to get going. If I don't..." she started before he cut her off and forced his lips against hers. She pushed against his chest, but he was like a brick wall and would not budge. He grabbed her by her hips and lifted her up to which she replied with a swift kick of the foot directly to his groin.
"I said I was leaving. You got what you paid for," she said as he howled and rolled around on the floor in pain.
"You bitch! I'll teach you some manners." He yelled as he pulled himself from the ground and started to charge her. She quickly slid through the small living area and out the door. He had driven her back to his place, but she knew a lady around the corner that used to give out condoms to girls she knew were prostitutes. Hopefully, old Mrs. Lemare was still alive and awake. It was dark but the porch lights were adequate to see her surroundings. She could hear the splash of water from the pool that had been setup on the corner as she rounded onto Centennial street. She heard the slamming of a car door behind her and the rev of the engine as he started up his 2001 Chevy 1500.
For a moment she recalled just how annoying she had always found those loud aftermarket mufflers that made a vehicle sound like one of those modified race cars. She could see the house just two driveways down, of course who could miss a red house with bright green trim. The roar of the engine came down Chellis st and she broke into a run. Then all she could hear was that exhaust and a blaring horn. With her heart racing and adrenaline rushing she tripped over a garden hose and fell to the ground. Looking up she saw he had stopped his car at the curb and was now approaching her fists clenched.
YOU ARE READING
Night Life
General FictionA rough night and a strange savior for a happy girl turned street walker