•[Sin]: Something regarded as being shameful, deplorable, or utterly wrong.•
•Jason was completely devastated with the death of his girlfriend, he blames a girl involved in the tragic accident. He turns into a serial stalker seeking revenge in the m...
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The sound of my heels clicking to the rhythm of the floor synchronised with my forced breath. The darkening evening was covered by a thick fog which obstructed the view of the wet and dark alleys of the city. I pushed the thick black backdoor with strength until it was reasonable open to let my body inside the building.
-"Where were you!"- Camila asked interested as she stared at me while I left my bag fall onto the closest chair. She was already on her puffy and playful yellow costume.
-"I lost the bus and had to hurry my ass here on these torture of heels"- I explained between quick breaths pointing towards my feet. I rapidly ran to my locker, number 3.
I opened the locker with the keys I carried inside the pockets of my long black cardigan and quickly scrolled through the different pieces of clothing until I found the famous shiny white bralette and the matching white high shorts with embedded crystals on either sides of the hips section.
My trust with the girls was high enough to get down to my underwear in matters of seconds and just rapidly change to the clothing I previously chose. I had no time to lose, it was a busy night just like every Friday night and time means money in "Fantasy Show Club".
Petra started to indicate with her hands that we needed to hurry up because the show was almost about to start. Petra, thirty six years old, is the boss of the exotic dancing club I work for. She has Russian blood running through her tough veins. Her parents moved from Moscow to America seeking a better life, sadly they died on a plane crash soon after she turned eighteen. She has a slim tall figure contrasted by her silicon breasts and fat butt implants, her eyes are the deepest sea blue and her blonde platinum hair shines marvellously on a long straightened bob.
Working as a dancer in a night club is not the most pleasant or respectful job but it keeps my bills payed meanwhile I finish my studies in the morning. I't was pointless to seek for another job after my story was revealed to the public eye by the news. People do not want someone like me working for other regular jobs.
My parents committed a homicide.
I was in the car when my parents accidentally ran over the blonde girl crossing the street. Her stare of pure shock seconds before her body collided with the front of the car sent shivers down my spine. Then, everything turned turbid. I was abused by my dad, it is more frightening than it sounds, which already says a lot. Both of my parents were pro-alcoholics. They drowned their problems on cheap bottles of whiskeys and vodka. The money started to run out at a fast speed and we almost got evicted twice.
I had to suffer their wrath and impotence for 3 long years, experiencing pains and situations that no little girl should ever experiment herself. When my grandparents found out the case going on, they sued my parents and won my custody, it wasn't hard considering the homicide case. Luckily I have been living with them since that event. However, I still wake up some nights covered in my own sweat due to the nightmares caused by that trauma.
