I had a plan when I was nineteen. I would strip only until the bills were paid and I knew my sister and I wouldn’t be thrown out on the street. We would be financially stable. That was my plan. That was also three years ago. I’m still stripping.
I keep telling myself my life will change. I won’t do this much longer. I won’t need to. I don’t even believe that anymore. I still have bills. I still have a deadbeat mom. No idea where my father is. Or who he is.
Now my sister tells me she screwed up. Her future is at stake. One we’ve both worked hard for. There’s an offer for me. One I’ve refused twice now, but my resolve is slowly slipping. It’s just a job. He just wants to buy me for a little while.
He can buy me. But he’ll never own me.