/0/87013/coverorgin.jpg?v=03a545cda7f62154e8e6e3fea8e07fc4&imageMogr2/format/webp)
CHAPTER ONE
Finally, I am graduating.
I bounce my legs up and down happily as I wait for my name to be called.
"Olivia Macurry." at the sound of my name, I am up and running towards the stage.
I can't believe this is happening to me, after everything I went through to be able to go to school. All my tears, sweat, suffering, it all led me to this one moment.
The moment I get my degree. With a big smile on my face, I walk forward.
"Congratulations Macurry" the Dean says, a permanent fake smile etched on his face. I nod, smile for the camera then head down the stage.
Unlike my other classmates, there is no one in the crowd for me. No one screaming my name or how proud they are to have me, no one is here on my special day.
Quickly shoving the feeling of crying down my pit, I pull off my beautiful charming smile. Today is a happy day. I refuse to think sad thoughts.
I am not much to look at just a normal waist length redhead with Hazel eyes, not like the hot girls I see around.
"LIV!!!" my dearest friend, Stacy Steven, screams from a mile away running towards me while jumping up in excitement.
"STACY!!!" I shout, running towards her.
We meet halfway, embracing each other at the same time squealing happily.
Stacy Steven has been my friend for over three years now. She is the only one I can say knows a lot about me. Even though there are some things she doesn't know, and it's not because she is not a good friend because she is.
I just don't like to share my private life. I mean it's my life, so I like to keep it to myself duh.
"We are done baby!!" she yells, waving her hands dramatically.
I laugh with her. We grab our caps, flinging it into the air as we jump.
"I am so happy!!!!" she shouts, dancing about.
"It's time to celebrate–"
"Umm.... Stacy, I have to get ready for work, so I am going to have to pass." I whyne, swaying my hips left, and right.
She pouts sadly. Her parents called us over for some pictures. After taking numerous pictures with the family, I quickly headed home.
I work as a stripper at a club called 'Pleasure'. It's a big club with a lot of dirt going on there. I mean it's not my best choice, but my only option for now.
I quickly change into simple jeans and top knowing that I would still change at work. My home isn't much to write about.
The bed is small, you only take about five steps or so in the room. My kitchen consists of only a small dove, beside my bed is a small stool, there is a small closet by the side of my bed which makes the room smaller.
The walls are painted dull gray, my bed sheet is gray, my stool is black, and most of my clothes are black and white.
Why? Because to me colors are emotions, and the only time I am not feeling numb is when I am angry or disgusted. So I have a few pairs of red, and green clothes.
Taking the leftover pizza, I ate it in a rush. Prying open my bedside drawer, I pull out my drugs.
Dammit, just the last dose.
And this is the reason I never have money for myself. I have to buy these stupid pills that are so expensive or else I won't be able to live.
Maybe I should just die. No one knows me, no one cares, no one will cry, no one will even notice. My body will probably be found decayed by the landlord who comes to ask for overdue rent.
I sigh heavily. Is this life really worth living?
No, bad thoughts are not needed. I need to stay alive for all the people I was created to touch their lives. It will get better.
Who am I kidding, it will never get better but it will definitely get easier.
Taking one last breath, I head out locking the door behind me.
"Olivia."
I jumped in fear, startled to see the landlord standing right in front of me with a stern face, his pot belly protruding proudly.
"Hahaha, it's my favorite landlord." I chuckle, smiling sweetly at him.
"I am your only landlord," he says with a big scowl on his face.
Way to go stating the obvious.
"Your rent has been due for the past two weeks now." he adds, folding his arms under his chest.
I shuffle from one foot to another, the floorboard creaking under my feet.
"Ah, yes I know about that. I am heading to work now, and I promise to have your money by the end of this week." I plead, clasping my palms together.
I really hope he spares me.
"I really don't know what you do with all those money you earn as a hooker–"
"I am not a hooker." I interrupt him, my face beaming with a fake smile.
"Whatever. The week ends tomorrow, have my money or I throw you out." he snaps, looking at me from head to toes.
This man is literally fucking with his eyes. He has a wife and three kids, not to mention that he is old enough to be my father. Does his dick even still work?
"If you can't have my money, you know you can pay in-"
/0/67990/coverorgin.jpg?v=fb5819dbe93adf6fad205308983803cd&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/48670/coverorgin.jpg?v=6fc18c62037f632feddf92fcdd08bdd7&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/34262/coverorgin.jpg?v=20240401104012&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/73077/coverorgin.jpg?v=cb70f692cb0f5a33e06c95e72064ff65&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/23713/coverorgin.jpg?v=791f8295e9edbaff18c3208cb13b7442&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/85092/coverorgin.jpg?v=699ed33daef0faae71884288435f3a3e&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/87990/coverorgin.jpg?v=ce3b69abb03ce08cc00ef6aa2566575a&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/76230/coverorgin.jpg?v=e2b67c383560ace1a6c7b80f4cd04736&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/50764/coverorgin.jpg?v=20240625091900&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/44322/coverorgin.jpg?v=20230907185335&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/53665/coverorgin.jpg?v=f875a9cbab7680c62497559e87e25514&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/32927/coverorgin.jpg?v=f4a48cf6226a0157bfb1d0fd1210bf19&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/98319/coverorgin.jpg?v=e7fcd4dde03a24baf9f4cadeeeef1c17&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/80312/coverorgin.jpg?v=3fcb24af5a8d29525fb0fa4f0bbdef9e&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/50396/coverorgin.jpg?v=23c4fb2b6f7d930e57b88c5058c9dcc2&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/51570/coverorgin.jpg?v=4609e42c27ca72551f942907eb5c7191&imageMogr2/format/webp)