She was a twenty year old woman with brown skin and black, thick curly hair. She always wore it up in a bun and allowed a few tingles loose behind her ear.
Her lips were full, her nose was round. Her cheekbones were high and when she smiled, there were two dimples that appeared cute. She had long eyelashes and almond shaped eyes. They were brown and if one was observant enough, when they talked to her there was a deep sadness easily seen within them. She was broken, lonely and delusive. She was misunderstood and an outcast. Someone who people were curious about but did not know how to approach. How would she react?
She was a stripper. It seemed as if God himself- or the devil- had built her for the sole purpose of the object of a man's desire. She had every feature and aspect a man wished his woman to be. Many saw her and tried swiftly to make her their own, only to find out she was not an one man woman. Her mind couldn't grasp the idea. She was for everyone.
"Why did you drop out of school?" The therapist asked. A pen in his right hand and a pad in his lap. Underneath the pad was a folder with her documented information in it. Basically, everything her father had informed him that he hoped could possibly help.
She shrugged, a very small hint of a smile on her full lips. If it weren't for his study in psychology, the therapist would have never seen it.
"I was bad at it"
He nodded writing her reason down. "Why do you believe you were bad at school?"
Her eyes looked to the left as her leg momentarily paused from its restless shaking, before she looked back at him. "Because I failed.." What other explanation could there be?
Her brown eyes rolled, impatient. In two years, he was the third therapist her father had set up for her to see. He couldn't understand his daughter's mentality. He understood she was an adult but she needed help.
It was her self esteem. Rick been through countless talks with her, sweating blood trying to make her see how beautiful she was through her teenage years. Ghana cried when she was alone and broke in front of her father. She hated herself; everything about her physical made her sick. She thought she was too skinny and her nose was too big. Then, when she developed into a womanly figure and grew into her features, she believed she was too fat and her hair wasn't long enough. Ghana never learned self love. She lied to herself which made it seem that at the age of twenty she were fine. Rick saw through the facade. She wouldn't talk to him anymore so he hired people who she possibly would.
He only hated she was a stripper, Ghana thought. He believed a harlot's mind could be redeemed. Maybe it could. But she didn't want her mind to be retaught. It was strange to say that as far back as she could remember, her wish was to always be who she was today.
The older white man sighed, seeing no progress over the month they've seen one another.
"Ghana it's clear that you are content. It's time to stand up to your father and let him know that you like who you are. Allow him to understand that you are an adult who makes her own decisions"
"Uhm.." Ghana began. "You dont understand my dad. He's a detective. He's a man of God who faithfully goes to church every Sunday. My family is the perfect middle class black American family. I'm his youngest of four children. He feels it is his duty as a father to guide me in the right direction. When I went left he blamed himself. He didn't know where he went wrong. My mother gave up, believing I will one day learn the hard way. My dad didn't. He doesn't believe in that, he believes in love, faith and in family"
"Is it your love for money?" She smiled. "Oh yes"
Money was the motive. Money was above everything for Ghana. She put it above love, relationships and the men who threw it. She loved it so much she publicly snatched her clothing off for it. She danced seductively for it as it was rained unto her naked body. It was all for the money.
