The Disastrous Maid

10 JULY 2021 "You smell nice today. New perfume?" The creepy large man says, dipping his head on my neck. I fight the urge to scream for help like I did the first night here, but the whipping, stitching and scars make me think otherwise. So I sit still, body frozen in fear. "Please, please let me go. My parents will pay you heavily. I won't tell anyone about this, we won't go to the cops to report this. Just let me go." I whisper to him, choking back a sob. The evil man leans back, black eyes staring deeply into my soul, and he let's out a chuckle. "Silly girl," he caresses my tear stained cheek with his dirty hand. "I like it when you beg, it turns me on so much. Come on, beg again." He whispers in my ear. I wake up from my slumber with a sudden need for air, my heart beating at an alarming rate. I put my hand on my chest to try to slow it down. But what woke me up from the slumber is actually the knock on the door. Not that I am not grateful, any more minute in that dream would have resulted in an even shittier day. I extend my hand under my tiny bed in search for something. Within seconds I grab ahold of it and just like that I start with my morning routine, taking one big gulp out of my favourite Vodka bottle. Yes, I drink alcohol first thing in the morning like I am drinking coffee. And no, I am not an alcoholic, I merely drink as a hobby, yeah.. let's go with that. The knock on the door starts again, but this time louder than the last time indicating how the person behind it is growing impatient by the minute. "Alright, alright! I'm coming. Hold your horse or whatever the English men say!" I shout and throw my legs off the bed and begin walking to the door. I roughly open the door, ready to give the person a piece of my mind. "Of-f*****g-course it's you." I say with an eye roll. My annoying landlord, Tom, stands proudly (well as proud as you can be with short shorts and a white tank top that shows chest hair) in front of me. "Yes it's me princess. I'm here to collect my money." He says with his arms crossed. Shit, it's that time of the month already? Wait, what day even is it? I flash him my best seductive smile and twirl my probably messy hair. "Oh that's today? I thought it was tomorrow." This time he is the one that rolls his eyes. "Listen, I'm not going to fall for your s**t again. Your rent is due by two months, so you can either pay or f**k off." He raises his voice. I drop the seductive act seeing as it isn't working for him. "Listen Tom, I just got fired from work but I'm really trying to find another job. Just give me until the end of this month and when I do get money I will pay you for four months." I lie. I still have my crappy job at the cafe but I do not know why I just offered to pay for four months when I can hardly afford for this month. He hits the doorframe in anger but I don't flinch, I'm used to it already. "Oh shut up, I've heard that line already. I have a line of people waiting to pay for this apartment and do not make me use force on you." He says sternly. I doubt anyone is eager to move into this shitty one bedroom apartment but okay. I huff, "I know, I know, but this month is all I'm asking out of you." He looks at me for a moment, his large nose flarring with each breath he takes. "I am giving you until the end of this week, or else..." That is all he says before he turns and leaves. I shut the door and lean my head on it. "f**k!" I yell so loud that I think the neighbors heard me. Oh, whatever, I am sure they are far too high or drunk to think about anything. I, on the other hand have a lot to think about. I slid down to the floor and bring my knees to my chest, letting reality set in. If I do not somehow make money by the end of this week I will be homeless. I have been homeless before and it is not the greatest thing to experience, especially as a young woman. Where in the world I am going to get the money? I have no job, no inheritance or any source of income at that. I'm sitting duck. I might as well start packing now to the transition easier for both Tom and I. I crawl towards my bed where my bottle of Vodka is sitting pretty and open it to take a one huge gulp. I then stand up to lie on the bed, with my face facing the dirty ceiling. I do not even know why I am fighting so hard to stay in this crappy place. The ceiling is filled with mold and it pours when it rains; the apartment does not have rooms, the only room here is the one with a tiny room and shower; from then on the kitchen is by my left side, the bathroom/toilet is on my right, and the door is staring righr at me. That's it. Let us not even forget about the spiders that have now become my roommates and the neighbors that are flipping loud. But where will I go? I am far away from home, my parents probably think think I am dead, I do not even have a cent to my name, and I do not have a degree. This is the only place that will take low-lifes like myself, people with no future. My chest hardens at that. No future. I used to have one of those before I was kidn*pped when I was 18 years old. They took me away from my family, my friends, and my future. I had planned to go study graphic designing at that time but I guess the universe had other plans for me, s**t plans may I add. They took me for a total of 4 and a half years before I decided that I have had enough. I push my body up from the bed and shake my head. Thinking about what could have been will not help my situation now. I make my way to the bathroom and when I see my reflection on the mirror, I cringe. My Africa American black hair is messy and tangled in an afro, and not the type of afros that make you stop and admire. No, my afro makes you question if I have taken a shower today. My brown eyes look dead, hollow even, like I have no soul. My once caramel skin looks somewhat pale, and my bones are starting to show. I look sick, malnourished. I bite the inside of ny cheek to prevent myself from crying. I just splash water on my face and wipe it off, the walk out the bathroom to go change into a pair of black jeans, a grey Rolling Stones shirt, a pair of converse shoes and a cap to hide my hair. I take one last drink, finishing off the bottle, before heading out with only one thought: Oh and I need another bottle.