Message from the author:

Greetings fellow Corrupted readers/fans. For those who have followed/liked/favorited my story, I have some news. I have re-done the ENTIRE story. So please re-read it from the beginning and I promise you will notice the chances/corrections. Will you be pleased? You'll have to find out.

For those of you just starting to read my story, I appreciate comments/concerns that you may have.

Also, I apologize for the constant font change through the story. I have the font set at Franklin Gothic 12 on my saved Microsoft Word file, but Fiction Press doesn't seem to like it. All I can tell you is to increase the viewing font to the size that suits you as you read along.

I hope you will enjoy it as much as I've enjoyed spending countless hours writing/editing it.

Sex; that's the story of my life. People look at it as a sin, unless you're married. Some look at it as a stress reliever. Others do it because of their insane obsessions. But me, I'm one of those who does it for the money. Now I know what you're thinking; I'm a whore. Well, I suppose that's the appropriate word for someone like me, though I'm not too fond of that term.

Does that sicken you? Do you think little of me? That's fine. I'm used to it. I've lived with most people looking down at me with absolute disgust and disappointment. In fact, I've dealt with it most of my life. It's not exactly something I'm proud of, but it beats a real snooze of a full-time job or starving on the streets. At least I've got money to eat and a clean place to sleep at night.

But that's for me to explain later. Right now, I'd like to take you back to where things took a turn in my life. The place in time that changed my life for better or for worse; that's up to you to decide.

It began like almost every night. Mom was getting riled up over something as simple as schoolwork and it was up to me to silence her drunken fury one way or another…

"Amy! I can't believe you!" screamed my Mother, as she slammed her hands flat on the dining room table.
I simply ignored her childish attempt to get my attention and focused on the tiny T.V. in front of me. I couldn't imagine what she couldn't believe now; as if I didn't already know. Mom hates it when I watch cartoons during the school week. Even more so when she's cracked open a fresh bottle of Rum.
"How can you just sit there and watch television when you should be studying for your tests?" She continued to rant.
" I have studied Mom. My grades are nothing but straight A's. There's nothing to worry about. I promise." I lied. The truth was that my grades had been slipping because of my recent visits with my boyfriend after school when I told Mom I'd be studying.

See, she thought I was too young to have a boyfriend since I'm only fourteen, and I guess she's right, but I can't help but see him. He's the greatest. He loves everything I love; his family seems to be in better condition than mine could ever hope to be, plus his mom seems to like me a lot; he's always picking me up in an amazingly sexy car to drive me wherever we want, even though he's only had his license for several months; he's also two years older, but age doesn't really seem to bother either of us; and best of all, he's always making sure that people know I'm his, whether he pulls me up against him when he sees some guy check me out or kisses me in the crowded hallways at school. Call me a stupid, immature teen girl, but it's difficult not to swoon when he does things like that.

I guess to some people, that can get annoying, and maybe it will, since we've only been going out three months now.

My dreamy thoughts of my boyfriend Tommie come to an end when my Mother continues her persistent booze-filled nagging.

"Then why have your teachers recently called me about your missing assignments?" Mom said with an evil stare only a mad mother could give.
" I suppose I've missed a few minor assignments." I replied, shutting off the television as I did. I then grabbed my light gray overcoat and headed toward the door. I'd had enough of her bitching for tonight.

"Where do you think you're going? It's a school night!" She shouted at me, her face growing increasingly red the more nonchalantly I spoke.

"Out." I said, closing the door securely behind me.

The air was surprisingly chilly that night as I strolled down the moonlit street. I hugged myself tightly seeking warmth, considering my body was rather petite. I wondered where I was going, since I hadn't really intended to leave the house that night. But the thought of my Mother's repetitive lectures and the way she'd use physical force to get me to do what she wanted, made my choice appear justified. I shuddered involuntarily, not liking to go that far back into my childhood. It seemed too aggravating and depressing to dwell upon right now. But what else was I supposed to think about? That's really all there was to my life up until now; it's all I'd ever known.

Luckily though, I had found myself a distraction. I was currently standing in front of his house, looking up and taking in the entire beauty of the rustic dark green, two story mansion–styled home. It was such a lovely house. It was one of those houses that made everyone less fortunate filled with envy for not having even a one bedroom house and those with plenty of money to spare, wanting another one of their own.

I knocked on the large cherry wood doors and stood back slightly. His mother opened one of the doors and gave me a perplexed look. "Why, hello Amy. What are you doing here at this time of night? Here to see Tom, I assume?" she asked, knowing full well that was the only reason I'd actually be there.
"Yes. Is he home?" I asked, as I fixed my gaze at her beautiful dark blonde curled locks of hair. She raked her fingers through her gorgeous hair and stood aside to let me in.

"Yes he is. Go on upstairs."

So I did, not knowing this would be the night and the incident that came with it, that would begin my journey to what I do today…