The Beginning
For as long as I could remember, I’ve been on my own. My parents were never really around, and when they were around, it was hell. I stayed for as long as I could in our house for my brother Enzo, but once I turned sixteen, I dropped out of school and left home. I never looked back after that.
Surviving on the streets of Miami is no joke, but You get used to it the longer you survive. Before I left my home at sixteen, I had already made a name for myself. When I turned fourteen, I started fighting for money on the streets. I mean I’ve fought my whole life, so why not fight for money to sustain a living. At first I went up against women, but soon fought against men. The money was better when fighting men.
I would fight at different underground locations around the city, becoming undefeated. I mean I wasn’t as big as I was then, but now being 20 years old, I weigh about 215 pounds and stand at about six feet tall.
I fought a lot from the ages of fourteen to eighteen. That’s how I made most of my money, well all of my money to be honest. After a while it took a toll on my body. All the concussions and broken bones really did a number on me.
Ever since I turned eighteen, I got a job working as a bartender at this popular casino in Miami. Well actually a friend of mine got me the job. He actually works as a security guard here. And I wouldn’t necessarily call him a friend, more like somebody I had a fling with and just cut it off and decided to just be friends. I’m not good with relationships or being tied down in any way. I’ve had really bad experiences in the past, and that’s not even counting watching my parents' shitty marriage growing up.
I grew up seeing my parents hate each other, in turn never wanting to be home or around each other. Then it got worse when drugs and alcohol got involved, making them really never come home. And when they did come home, it was always physical, mental and verbal abuse.
I took most of the punishments from my parents so my younger brother Enzo wouldn’t get them. My brother Enzo was really my half brother. My father wasn’t his actual father, making him resent Enzo and my mother. I mean I understand they way he felt, but he didn’t need to beat on Enzo just because he was angry at our mother.
I cooked and cleaned growing up. I had too, or we would starve. Enzo wasn’t really big on cooking or cleaning to be honest. I did everything, making sure we were taken care of. I even went grocery shopping, and would sometimes steal because we didn’t have enough money to buy things.
I’ve been trying to get money on the streets of Miami ever since I was twelve. I would go out and pickpocket people’s wallets and purses. It wasn’t so hard being a small child, but after a while I would get caught so I had to change it up. Then fighting came and opened the doors to a world I never knew.
I would make thousands a night with all of the bets placed on me. I was a living legend, yet people don’t know who I truly am. You see, my name is Amina Bryant, but my fighting name is diosa oscura, it means dark goddess in Spanish. The streets of Miami know me as Diosa Oscura, but only when I’m in disguise. I always wore a black mask that covered my face. I don’t want people to know my identity, I don’t need my two lives intermingling.
I was able to get a nice apartment near where I work, but it's so expensive trying to maintain it after I stopped fighting. The only thing really sustaining me now are the tips I get for being a bartender at the casino.
Thank God for my curves and fat ass or else I would be homeless right now. I always make sure to wear a mini skirt with pantyhos and our white tub top casino tee. I make sure to wear a nice push-up bra that puts the girls where they need to be for good tips.
I gotta say it’s pretty demeaning and disgusting to be treated just like a piece of ass, but bills don’t stop for anything. I’m able to save a little money over the years, making it add up. I honestly don’t know what I want to do with my life, but I know it’s not this. This is just temporary, something to keep me sustained until I can make better moves for my life.
I thought about traveling the world and living off the land. It sounds so amazing, yet so illusionistic. How would I even be able to do that? I mean really.
“I would like a vodka and water please.” A customer said out to me at the bar, throwing me from my thoughts
The man was handsome, yet cocky and greedy rich like the rest of the casino's customers. The longer I work here, the more suspicious I become of this place. The people who come in and out of here aren’t just regular people off the street. The type of money they play with is chump change to them, but a lot of money to me. These men lose 100k like it’s nothing here and don’t seem to be bothered by it.
If only I could find a rich and humble man to take care of me and give me a life of luxury and comfort. The fantasies I think about are ridiculous. The men who come in here are all about control. Something that doesn’t work for me. I will never surrender to a man, especially a man with no honor and respect for me or themselves. I’ve already dealt with a man like that, and it did not work out too well.
I made the man his vodka and water and handed it to him. He paid and left me a twenty dollar tip. I smiled happily at the man as he walked away. I was glad he left, I kind of thought he was another one of the creeps and would ask me to accompany him to his room. You can only imagine how many men ask me that on a nightly basis. Sometimes the same men. They would even offer me thousands of dollars to sleep with them, but I’m worth way more than that. My peace and sanity are so much more worth than a couple of thousand dollars.
I put my twenty dollar tip in my pocket and went back to wiping down the bar counter.
