Standing in the Rain

I shifted my feet as I counted out the money I had made to night. One more costumer and I could go back to the house. I curled my lips in disgust; the whorehouse.

My mind flashed back to John, the sole reason I was selling my body on an Oakland street corner. I had been 16 and invensable when I left my small hometown in West Virginia to move across the country to live with a man I had only meant once.

I know it was stupid and reckless. And I know my excuse wasn't a very good one. But I still thought I was in love, and at that time, it counted. I didn't even care that my parents wanted nothing to do with me. I had John and he would protect me.

I was at a party with him and the guys from his band. I was fucked up on pot, x, and about five other drugs that I can't remember. I was just coming out of the bathroom when Billie, Tre, and some other guy that I didn't know came down the hallway towards me.

At the time I wasn't afraid of them. They were just my boyfriend's friends. They hadn't hurt me; I wasn't afraid. So when Billie grabbed my wrist and pulled me into a bedroom I didn't really think that much of it.

Then they tossed me onto the bed. I'm not going onto all the details bt the bottom line is... they raped me.

And they filmed it.

After they were done they let me go. And they said they wouldn't show the tape to John as long as I did everything they told me to.

And that's how it began. I did what they said and as far as I know they didn't tell John.
Until I messed up that is.

I did everything they asked for a little under a year. before I fucked up. His name was Greg and he was a friend of Tre's dad's. He was suppose to pay me 1200 dollars for four hours of sex. I forgot to count the money before I left so I gave Jason 800 dollars.

And because I was 400 dollars short he showed John the videos and a few others that they'd taken. John wasn't happy, at any of us. But most of all me. He filmed while Billie, Tre, and Jason raped me. And yes, after a year it was still rape.

John dumped me on the street after that. I had no food, no money, and no friends. So I did the one thing that I knew I was good at. I knew some people from the whorehouse. I managed to get enough money for a phone booth. twenty minutes later it was all set up.

So that was that, I stayed at the whorehouse for ten years. They gave me a room and food. The money was good, enough that my drug habit was covered anyway.

I wasn't happy with the was things turned out but I was okay. I was one of the few girls that the hadn't put on probation for causing them to lose a costumer.

And then Billie showed up.

Apparently Sweet Children - now Green Day- was very accomplished; he offered 40000 for five hours. And apparently they didn't like it when I refused.

But do you blame me? I mean how could I let one of the people who did this to me touch me again? And the part that killed me? He didn't remember. He didn't remember that he help destroy my life.

So I refused.

And they kicked me out and told me to make 50000 dollars.

So here I was right know. Waiting for one more costumer. Then after almost two months I could go back.

But I wouldn't. I had this all mapped out. I had the gun in my motel room. But for some reason I wanted to make the money. My last shot at pride maybe, I don't know.

But anyway, I wasn't doing this anymore. I was tired. Of everything. And I wanted it to end.

A small man in a big van pulled up in front of me. I smiled and got in.