Whore

The sweet young woman walked breezily through the back of the diner she worked in. All the other waitresses and the cooks with their chef hats said bye as she waved and smiled, walking out the back door. Outside, in the alleyway of broken bottles and moldy cardboard boxes, she lifted up her woolen jacket’s collar, stood stern and looked down as she made her way.

            In the dark bar room, the overhead lights gave everything an amber hue. The sweet young woman with her red lips and perfectly white teeth was welcomed in by all the men at the bar. She waved and said hello, pulling her midnight black hair out of her collar. Some men looked away as she approached, others made jokes, one returned her smile with his own. His desire was painted a glowing green in his eyes, and his pocket was full of money. Her flirtations were already programmed, his were also, but his were sincere. She wanted sex and money… he wanted her. Every question she answered and every comment she made fueled him even stronger, and his face resembled a kid eyeing an expensive toy through a store window.

            Watching this happening was a man in the very back of the bar where everything was dim. To the two he was watching however, it wouldn’t have mattered if he was seated right beside them. Neither would have noticed, or any of the patrons of that bar. Underneath his pale, locked face… the dark man was seething. When the ‘couple’ left the bar (the man never taking his eye off the girl even as he slapped his money on the bar top) so did the watching man.

            In the front of his expensive German car, the no longer very sweet young woman was sucking off the man with the money. In the shadows of the parking lot, the watching man felt bitter disgust.

            When the young woman stepped out of the car, her lipstick was smeared. She no longer held that smile she once wore automatically. With money in her pocket and her dignity dead, she pulled up her collar and walked off as quickly as she could.

            The man with the money went home, having just fed his habit of pleasure. In his black jacket and slacks he stepped to the door of his condo. Something seemed wrong. He turned around and looked about, feeling someone was watching him. Nothing caught his eye, and he stepped inside.

            How the watching man wanted to kill him. To step up behind him silently, pull the wire over his head and choke him to death. To pull the immoral bastard close, imagine the look on his face as his eyes bugged out and he turned red. To make the bastard die with his killer’s cold unfeeling face right up against his cheek. To kill that man… to make him die. With one last gasp. If he had done it, it would have been the watching man’s closest and most personal moment with such a person. If only. Instead, the watching man started his car and shifted it into reverse.

            The young woman hated herself now, looking in the mirror. Naked in the bathroom, she left the water running in the shower. She stood in front of the mirror over her sink and stared longingly at her face. Someone at the door knocked.

            The door was kicked in as soon as she came into the room in her bathrobe. A man in a long dark coat was standing in her doorway as she gasped and turned around to run. She fell over her glass coffee table and he overtook her. She screamed and writhed and bit and kicked as he shook her. He picked her up by the shoulders and shoved her back against the wall, and she stopped struggling. They both looked at each other. Her hair fell down over her face, and in her eyes was terror and vulnerability. Seeing this… the man suddenly felt powerful. One eye was bloodshot, the other white, both pupils were dilated. Then as the man looked down to her open bathrobe… at her breasts and her nakedness… he felt disgusting. He realized now what he had come here to do. He wanted to rape this girl and use her just like so many others would. He let go of her and turned away. He had done a terrible thing… now he reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. He dropped all the money in it onto the floor.

            “Take it all.” He said, and stepped over the overturned coffee table and out of the apartment.

             The young woman sat against the wall, her bathrobe undone and coming down her shoulders. Her face was wet from tears, and she couldn’t stop them. The violent intruder had shut the door behind him, but the locks on it were ripped from the wall. She tried to stop whimpering, but only strangled crying came out. She pulled her knees up and her bathrobe over them, and buried her face down in her arms around her legs. She cried… and the money or the men would not fix anything.