Sleeping With Tattoos

NATALIE

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Rolling over in unfamiliar sheets. Waking up an staring at unfamiliar walls. I can't even have a shower. You wake up in one bed one morning and end up in another one that night. They pay you for what you offer during the night, waking up the following morning doesn't give you the luxury of showering.

I roll from the covers and slide my clothes back on. It's unusual for a man to be awake. They usually beg for me when they are drunk so waking up the following day isn't an option. The money lies on the floor, and like the cheep female I am, I scrape all the pennies from the hard wooden floor too.

The crisp air of the morning wakes my twig like body. Heading for the only food store I ever enter near my house I count the thirty pounds I was thrown last night. It's the most I've earned all week.

I buy boil in a bag rice and some already cooked chicken for dinner tonight. I'm lucky I have six bottles of water left in the fridge. I buy a sandwich for breakfast and order a quick tea by the hot drinks section.

On entering my block of flats all I can smell is wee, vomit and nappies and old mouldy beans. Unlocking my paint chopped door of flat 14 I walk into the cold damp room. The couch and tv is to the left, the kitchen just behind and the door leading towards my bedroom to the right.

What else can I do on a Sunday at 12:00pm in the afternoon. At least I have school tomorrow.

I do the only thing I can do which is ring up the electricity and gas company and pay for my bills which then allows them to turn on my electricity and gas for a whole month.

The scummy flat suddenly warms itself up and I make my way to the living room, well to be honest it's only a couch with a small table and a TV. Staring at the movie that's on makes me drift off.

By the time I'm awake it's night and the room is thick with heat, small droplets of sweat drip down my body and I decide it's just about time to boil the rice in the microwave and cook the chicken.

I'm lucky that it's Sunday, I don't have to go out and sleep around because of school the next day. I get quiet a lot of money on Friday and Saturdays because of all the intoxicated men hanging around bars and street corners waiting for someone like me.

What have I become? It makes me sick thinking of the waste of life I'm having.

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I basically had this idea for this Harry fanfic and I thought I'd write the first chapter and if the number of reads are good then I'll continue with this because I also have Spotlight but this idea came to me and I quiet like it. Please comment either here or on Spotlight to let me know what you think, which should I write? xoxo