𝔇𝔢𝔞𝔩 | sᴋᴢ

2

I don't know if it was my desperation or my curiosity that drove me to call the number that was listed under the ad.

I mean, it was obviously the sketchiest thing I have ever seen.

And most likely involved prostitution or human trafficking.

But if it didn't, then it would be some kind of miracle. The one thing that I needed the most right now. Money.

And I'm not going to lie, I would do almost anything (stressing the almost) to get money right now.

So I nervously dialed the number and listened to the line ring. My foot was tapping on the hard wood floor of my crummy little apartment.

I was scared that whatever or whoever picked that phone up would be a scam. And I would once again be at square one.

But then I heard a voice.

"Hello? Who is this?" It was a young man. He had a slightly raspy, deep voice that sent a shiver up my spine.

"Uh- Hello. I'm calling about the work position open? Could you tell what kind of work it is exactly?" I managed to stutter out.

Holy shit, this might actually be real?

"Huh? OH." The man sounded startled, "Yes- um. One second please."

I waited patiently for the next few seconds. Trying not to think about how shady this was.

"Hello?" Another man's voice came through my phone. This one was clearer and had a higher tone. "I heard you're interested in the position?"

"Yes I am. But could you tell me just what the position is?"

"Oh- sorry. It's a... um... cleaning job..." he sounded like he just made that up on the spot, but who was I to judge. I was way too busy being relieved that this was real.

"And how much does it pay exactly?"

"Um... how much would you think that it pays?"

I was silent for a second. Are these people serious? I could just make up a number?

"Well the ad said make money fast. So I would assume over $100 an hour?" I crossed my fingers hoping they didn't know how much that was.

"... yeah... that much." The man sounded incredibly unsure.

I almost screamed in excitement. At this point I do NOT care if these people killed me. 100 bucks an hour and they can run me over repeatedly in a monster truck made of cement.

"And how many hours a day would I be working?"
I took a deep breath and tried not to sound too excited.

"How about we discuss the details in a meeting?"

I smiled to myself.

"Address and date?" I tried sounding professional.

The man on the phone told me where we would meet and when, then hung up.

Oh my GOD this might finally work out.

I pushed my doubts to the back of my mind and I smiled. Because finally, there was hope.