THREE
711 Words
Cara takes a deep breath before locking the door of her small bathroom and sitting down on the closed lid of the toilet. Her legs are bouncing up and down rapidly, her thick bottom lip caught between her teeth and her old phone clasped tightly in her hands.
She has to do this.
It’s been a week since Maria gave her the yellow ticket to success.
While it does seem awfully degrading and desperate to have s*x with somebody out of a monetary need; at this point, it is a necessity. Surely, she imagined her first time would be with someone she loved, someone she cared about and somebody who would treat her like a princess — just like in the movies.
But her life isn’t a movie. It’s the worst kind of reality, the kind of reality that is ugly, gruesome and full of struggles.
Her life isn’t made for the big screens she grew up watching. No matter how much she manifested the life of the young girl in the movie who has the best college life, a handsome boyfriend and a family that supports her — that’s just not who she is.
And it’s about time she accepted it.
So with a heavy heart and a throat willing to close up any second, she dials the number printed on the yellow card and holds her breath as she hears the ring.
“Love Makers. Can I have your code?” Cara’s heart almost stops at the rough voice booming through the speaker.
“H-Hi, I don’t have a-a code. I was given this card by a friend, I want to,” She takes a deep breath to collect herself. “I want to join.”
“Certainly.” The man on the line seems totally unfazed. “I’ll just need a few details.”
“Okay. . .” Cara trails off nervously. She can almost hear her heart thump.
“Full Name?”
“Cara Winter.”
“Area?”
“Chester Springs.”
“Are you of age?”
“Yes, I just turned eighteen a month ago.” Cara mumbles, chewing on her lip hard enough to draw blood.
“Oh...interesting.” The man trails off.
“Can I join?”
“Actually, you may meet the requirements of one of our special plans. Are you interested in making 10,000 dollars a month?” She can almost hear the smugness in his voice.
Ten thousand dollars. That’s more than her mom makes in a year.
“Really? Yeah, I’m totally interested, I’ll do it.” She tries not to sound too excited.
“Perfect. We’ll set up a meeting, I’ll send you the details on this number.”
+
Cara twists and turns anxiously in her bed, waiting for the text she’s both wanting and dreading. She knows this is a huge step, but she also knows that it’s worth it.
Anything is worth it as long as she doesn’t have to live like this.
A loud buzz from her phone causes her to sit upright in her bed, her heart racing and her fingers scrambling to find her phone.
Unknown: Tally’s at 5:00pm, June 8. Wear a fitted dress for body shots. No make up. - L.M.
She stares at the message, reading and rereading it. It almost feels unreal. Ten thousand dollars a month.
She could change everything with that kind of money. She and her parents wouldn’t have to live in this dump, and her dad can finally take an off long enough to find something that pays him better and exploits him less. She could go to college, and study with the kind of kids she only sees on TV.
And then this will all be over, and she’ll have a degree and a six-figure income.
She’s aware that her plan is a little unrealistic and much too far-fetched; but this is the first time in a while when she knows her plan is not just another dream. This is a plan that actually has a chance at materialising.
She just needs to swallow her pride and put the work in. And it’ll be hers.
She slumps back under the scratchy covers, staring at the damp patches on her ceiling that have been here for the last five years. She spends that night noticing everything she doesn’t want in her future house — from the white tiles stained yellow overtime to the hand-me-down furniture. The dented pans in the kitchen, her mother’s calloused fingers and the smile her dad has to feign every time he sees her — she’ll fix everything.
All she had to do was wait for June 8.
- Writer
