Page 66 of Ashes of Sin and Stardust

“You okay, honey?” A voice said from above. I forced myself to look up and meet his gaze. He was a well-dressed man, clean shaven with a suit, but he had a creepy vibe about him.

“Not at my best. Hungry. Broke. Haven’t had a shower. Spare some change?”

“How about a shower and a night’s sleep?” His eyes traced me up and down as he said so.

I stood up. I couldn’t say no to that, no matter how awful this guy might be. My whole body hurt from sleeping on the ground or on park benches. My stomach was so empty it felt like it was eating itself. My hair was an actual rat’s nest.

He introduced himself as Mordecai, and didn’t talk much as he drove. He stopped by McDonalds and got me a burger and some fries, and I ate in the car, trying not to inhale the food too fast.

The place he brought me wasn’t great. It was a one-bedroom apartment on the basement level of a large complex, with a front door that hung slightly sideways. A single tiny window in the living room was broken and barred over, and let in the light from the underground parking garage. No sunshine, no fresh air. It was mostly empty of furniture, and nothing hung on the walls. It was clean, but devoid of much more than a bed, a few towels, and a stool that sat tucked under the kitchen counter.

But it was air conditioned, and there was soap in the shower.

I scrubbed myself clean and washed my hair what felt like four times before I finally got out of the shower, wrapping myself in the soft towel. I didn’t want to put my dirty clothes back on, and I knew what he wanted anyway. I left the bathroom wrapped in the towel and went to the bed.

He was sitting on the edge of the bed, typing on his phone. He set it down when I came in and unbuckled his pants. He tossed a pillow on the ground.

“Here’s how this works, honey. You can stay as long as you want. But I come by when I want. No rent. You should still bum for money cause I ain’t feeding you.”

Free place to live and access to a shower? This was my lucky day. I could get a job, make some money, have a future.

Part of me still wanted to kick him in the balls. I hated being used. I was more than a sex doll, I knew that. But I told myself this was my best shot.

So I got on my knees and did my best.

At least he was clean.

Mordecai came by afew times a week, usually in the evenings after ten. That gave me a good amount of time to bum and beg throughout the day. I was able to buy some clean clothes, and then soon, I got a night shift at a gas station from a guy who paid me cash under the table.

My routine was effective. I got up in the afternoon or evening, bummed for money through the dinner rush, went home, sucked Mordecai’s dick, and then went to work at HandiMart a little before midnight. I worked until 6am and then went home and did it again.

Sometimes, I was even busy enough that I didn’t have time to cut myself. Sometimes I met nice people who gave me hope, a little splash of happiness, and I felt like I could get through the day. But most of the time, I was just one bad moment away from giving up. The only reason I hadn’t was because I was too busy, and too tired.

Everything hurt. Not just my body, but my mind, and because of the way my brain worked, it made my body hurt as well. My sadness and my anger hurt. My embarrassment at seeing rich women look down their noses at me hurt. My guilt for what happened to Scarlett and the feeling that it should have been me made my body feel like it was burning.

It was just part of who I was. There was no changing it.

One night at the gas station, I looked outside and saw a series of shooting stars through the window. I left the counter and went outside to look at them, staring open mouthed at the beauty of the night sky.

Had I never noticed the stars before?

There was a guy outside filling his tank. He saw me, but I ignored him, staring up at the sky. Just as sadness hurt, beauty made me feel like I was flying. I stared at the stars until I lost track of time, my mind finally clear for a few precious moments.

The man finished filling his gas tank and walked my way. I turned and went back inside, resuming my position behind the desk. Inside, he grabbed a banana, a newspaper, and a cup of coffee. I rang it up for him, catching his eye as I handed him his change.

He was looking at me, studying my face, smiling softly. He was a middle-aged handsome man, his dark hair starting to grey, clean shaven and wearing a brown suit and a brown fedora. He had beautiful hazel green eyes, and they were full of happiness when he spoke to me.

“Beautiful night.”

“Yes sir.”

He tipped his hat and left.

After that, the Banana Man came by every morning right at the end of my shift. I didn’t know much about him, but he was polite, he treated me like a person, and he never made sexual advances towards me. We had short conversations, mostly small talk. Sometimes he brought up a photo on his phone of his kids or his ex-wife, or he would tell me about his job as a lawyer.

“Have to go watch a serial rapist get off on a technicality today,” he muttered one morning when he seemed in a particularly bad mood.

“What? Why?”

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