How?

Lila - 6

I'm home and the comforting scent of clean attacks my nostrils. I can't wait to take a hot - steaming hot, shower. I need the relaxation.

The anxiety of today has faded and I'm exhausted.

The stinging sensation of the water opens up my senses and leaves my mind to wander. I almost slip, going for the soap because I remember I need to call someone - someone important that I absolutely hate calling. My father - I need money.

I get out of the shower and dry myself off, putting on a cute pair of panties and a big t-shirt. Now, to call the devil himself.

My father kicked me out a while ago, which didn't allow me to finish school or to have the credentials to get a job. So I live off the money that I earn every month from doing business with my father. We have an.. Odd relationship. I hate this time of month - even more so than I hate getting my period.

"Hey.. Dad." I say, trying to sound less disgusted than what I am.

"So you need money right? That's the only time you ever call your father. You're so fucking desperate. Do you what you need to do and remember I get 25%. My men pay good money for this kind of service and I'm still a very well known man out here. You have my DNA, but you are not my daughter. You're just another whore like the rest of my escorts. You know where and when to go, dress nicely." He speaks as if he's programmed to say this. He hangs up, a clear sign that he's busy. Who am I kidding? He's always busy. Even when I was a kid, he was never there. All he ever did was give me money and say, "One day, you'll be working for this." And he was right. 

I immediately break down into tears. My dad is a fucking gang lord back home. He runs an underground prostitution business. That's how I ended up getting pregnant at 17 - the whole reason why my father disowned me, even though it was one of his men. He was convinced I seduced him. So now, at the end of each month, I earn money by sleeping with a few well paying, nasty old men. A quarter of the money gets sent to my dad and I can get anywhere from 3 grand a month, depending on how generous these men are. Some pity me and "tip" me a few hundred dollars because they feel bad my dad is selling his own daughter. Others "tip" me for doing what they ask or even just for what I wear to meet them. I always feel disgusting after doing this. I know I need to fix myself, but I don't have the money to go to school yet. I can't take out a loan because I don't have a solid, stable back account. This shitty cafe job is barely letting me make ends meet, this is the only option I have that keeps a roof over my head.

Sometimes I wish I could pack up and leave, but I have no where to go and no one to go with me.

I look up and see him looking at me through the window. I can't help but stare, he looks so clean and handsome, but he shuts the curtain to my disappointment. I sigh, debating whether I should even do this. It's time for 'work'.

It takes all of my mental capacity to tell myself I'm only doing this because I need the money or else I'll be homeless and die. I am not dirty or a slut, this is how I make a living no matter how much I hate it. This is my body and this job will eventually come to an end.