Page 5 of Virginity Sold

It’s crowded at this time of evening, everyone getting off from their day jobs and heading home to an empty abode or their families. I block out the multitude of smells that are overpowering. It reeks of urine, cologne, and perfume, and maybe even some dirty diapers.

God, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I can’t wait to get home.

Chapter 3

Elena

I come home to find the front door open and my mom passed out on the couch, a lit cigarette in her hand. If I’d been any later, she would’ve burned the fucking house down with her inside.

Maybe we would have both been better off with that outcome.

Sighing I pinch the cigarette from between her fingers and butt it out, giving her arm a gentle shake. She needs to eat, something she probably hasn’t done all day.

“Leave me alone.” She rolls over, putting her back to me. Not wanting the hassle, I pick up a throw blanket off the chair and cover her, before locking the door and turning out the light. Hopefully, she’ll sleep her bender off and when she has a clear mind, I can talk to her about sobering up… again.

Fingers crossed that this is the time she agrees. Then all I have to do is figure out how to come up with the money to send her to the center. I’d sell my body if it meant she never picks up another drink again. I’m afraid she’s one step away from turning to something harder—drugs. She’s already smoking pot.

I head to the kitchen and open the bag, pulling out Mama’s food and placing it in the refrigerator before sitting down to eat my own. I take a few bites of the burger and cold fries before my stomach churns. The grease is making me feel sick instead of satisfying my hunger.

I wrap the remaining food up and put it in the refrigerator. Maybe I’ll eat it later or Mama can tomorrow. When I’m done, I make my way down the hallway to my bedroom. All I want is a shower and sleep, in that order.

I empty my pockets, pulling out the cash I made in tips, adding it to the stash in my underwear drawer. Not Fort Knox, but it’s kept my money safe since I’ve started working. The business card catches my attention, but I drop it on top of my dresser, then pull out some underwear and a nightgown, before heading back out to the bathroom.

The once white walls are stained yellow from nicotine, and the pictures all hang crooked. Any picture of my father has long been removed. She claims it was too hard to see the love of her life’s face every day.

I undress, dropping everything to the floor, and lean over to turn the shower on. The water blasts out of the head and I turn the knob, sticking my hand in to test the temperature. Changing my mind at the last second, I switch it to fill the tub. My muscles are so tense, soaking in a hot bath sounds better right now.

Once the tub is almost full, I turn the faucet off and step into the hot water. I hold back the yelp as the scalding heat hits my bare legs. After a moment, I’m able to slowly lower the rest of my body down into it, moaning as my aches melt away.

Resting my head back on the porcelain tub, I close my eyes and let my mind calm from the day. Edward’s conversation with me still lingers in my thoughts. All I can do is try to figure out what his angle is and what’s on that site he wanted me to check out.

I end up obsessing to the point I give up trying to relax and pull the plug, letting the water swirl in its own little tornado funnel as it goes down the drain.

I’ve barely dried off when I hear a thud from the living room.

Mama.

I wrap the threadbare towel around my body, holding it securely at my breasts as I rush out to check on her.

“Mama, are you okay?” I yell.

“I’m fine. Where’s my beer and cigarettes? Did you take them?” She glares at me as she pushes herself up from the floor.

“No.” I stop at the entrance to the living room as she stumbles into the kitchen, grumbling under her breath the entire way.

She’s always complaining about how I ruined her life. Some days I wish my dad would never have left and instead, dropped me on the doorstep of an orphanage somewhere. Maybe then my mother would be happy and I wouldn’t so feel unwanted.

“Mama, I brought you some food. I put it in the fridge, so why don’t you eat it? I can warm it up if you want me to.” I try to coax her to sit down, as I grip my towel tightly, so it doesn’t fall.

“What you can do is give me my damn ciggies and beer. I know your ass took them. If I want something to fucking eat, I can get it myself. I’m not a damn invalid!” she yells, spittle flying from her mouth as she glares at me.

“Mama, I know you can. I was just trying to help,” I plead with her, my vision blurring from the tears welling in my eyes.

She staggers over to me, grasping the counter to stay upright until she’s standing right in front of me. Her breath is rancid, and she’s sweating out the alcohol profusely. My stomach churns, but I don’t move.

“The only thing I need you to do is leave. I don’t want you around. It should’ve been you and not my sweet husband. If you weren’t such a sniveling, disobedient brat, he’d still be here. So the only thing I want, Lenny, is for you to give me the money you owe me for all the years I’ve taken care of you. Then you can move the fuck out.” She breaks into a coughing fit, but her words already do their damage.

Turning slowly, I make my way out of the kitchen and back to my bedroom. She’s still drunk, and it’s the alcohol talking. She doesn’t mean a word of what she’s saying. That’s what I keep telling myself. Maybe I’m the delusional one?

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