Thursday Evening
folder
Romance › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
22
Views:
3,311
Reviews:
26
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Romance › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
22
Views:
3,311
Reviews:
26
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
The next week
AN~ Back to the first person's thoughts. Chapter 1 guy.
Reviews that offer constructive criticism are encouraged.
Still just writing this to be different.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
On Friday, I woke up and remembered. I remembered that I hadn’t told him. I was not brave enough. I couldn’t say those words.
I hate my job. Both of them. Too much social interaction, always too much social interaction. But Friday was a bad day. The only reason I went in was for the money. And that would go pay my bills. And to him, and that is why I go.
The week slips slowly by. I’m still waiting for Thursday. Maybe this time, I’ll be brave enough to ask him a question about himself. Maybe where he was born, or how he got into this field. Or maybe simply his name. I don’t know his name. And… I’ll tell him. I have to. I don’t think I can stand this torture anymore.
I’m driving, now. Weird. He is not here yet. Must be late. Or I’m early. Should I just park here until I see him?
I wonder if I skipped a day, but I check the calendar on my cell phone. No, it’s Thursday. And the numbers are glowing 12:55, now. He’s late.
My stomach clenches as I realize that he could be hurt, or sick. Or maybe… he’s just late.
I’ll stay here a bit longer; he could still show up.
5 AM, and I still don’t see him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I went to my pimp on Friday and I told him that I wanted out. I don’t know why he was so lenient with me. I just had to work the weekend. Maybe he thinks I’ll be back. I guess that he’s seen what’s happening to me now. Maybe he's seen it happen before, and he knows that, eventually, I’ll come crawling back to him because I need the money. Or that my John will hurt me in some way. But I'm not going to let that happen. I won't let my pimp get the last laugh.
I took a long shower on Monday. I think I was trying to cleanse myself physically of all that has happened in the past two years. But what I’ve done, doesn’t come off in the shower.
I still feel unclean. Unfit for regular society. A part of me wanted to go to talk to my John. To tell him what I’d done. How I’d gotten there, why I’d stayed. But, I knew that I couldn’t. I couldn’t depend on him. He might be hiding something. Or I might have meant nothing.
But he had said that I was worth it.
I could go, tonight, the same corner as always, at the same time, and wait for him. Proceed as if nothing had happened. But, I would tell him too much, and I’d be forced back to it, if he proved himself human.
So, I can’t. I can’t have that much faith. Instead, I force myself to sit at home and watch TV.
Reviews that offer constructive criticism are encouraged.
Still just writing this to be different.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
On Friday, I woke up and remembered. I remembered that I hadn’t told him. I was not brave enough. I couldn’t say those words.
I hate my job. Both of them. Too much social interaction, always too much social interaction. But Friday was a bad day. The only reason I went in was for the money. And that would go pay my bills. And to him, and that is why I go.
The week slips slowly by. I’m still waiting for Thursday. Maybe this time, I’ll be brave enough to ask him a question about himself. Maybe where he was born, or how he got into this field. Or maybe simply his name. I don’t know his name. And… I’ll tell him. I have to. I don’t think I can stand this torture anymore.
I’m driving, now. Weird. He is not here yet. Must be late. Or I’m early. Should I just park here until I see him?
I wonder if I skipped a day, but I check the calendar on my cell phone. No, it’s Thursday. And the numbers are glowing 12:55, now. He’s late.
My stomach clenches as I realize that he could be hurt, or sick. Or maybe… he’s just late.
I’ll stay here a bit longer; he could still show up.
5 AM, and I still don’t see him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I went to my pimp on Friday and I told him that I wanted out. I don’t know why he was so lenient with me. I just had to work the weekend. Maybe he thinks I’ll be back. I guess that he’s seen what’s happening to me now. Maybe he's seen it happen before, and he knows that, eventually, I’ll come crawling back to him because I need the money. Or that my John will hurt me in some way. But I'm not going to let that happen. I won't let my pimp get the last laugh.
I took a long shower on Monday. I think I was trying to cleanse myself physically of all that has happened in the past two years. But what I’ve done, doesn’t come off in the shower.
I still feel unclean. Unfit for regular society. A part of me wanted to go to talk to my John. To tell him what I’d done. How I’d gotten there, why I’d stayed. But, I knew that I couldn’t. I couldn’t depend on him. He might be hiding something. Or I might have meant nothing.
But he had said that I was worth it.
I could go, tonight, the same corner as always, at the same time, and wait for him. Proceed as if nothing had happened. But, I would tell him too much, and I’d be forced back to it, if he proved himself human.
So, I can’t. I can’t have that much faith. Instead, I force myself to sit at home and watch TV.