“I see,” her voice carried perfectly monotone, “and how does that make you feel?”
“Desperate. I hate giving in like that; putting myself in such a position.” I really need this; I normally don’t get help like this. “It’s like my feelings don’t even matter! And obviously they don’t. I’m not allowed to feel. Just do as I’m told. I have cuts and bruises, scars! But it doesn’t matter just as long as I supply.”
“And how long has it been like this?”
“Since I was ten.”
“Ten! Oh my is there anything else I should know?”
“Yeah! I’m pissed! I can’t be used like this! Only one thing is wanted from me and I can’t object, and if I try? Then I’m threatened and not with my life mind you. With things a lot worse.” It was coming loose and I felt so much better.
“And whats the boys name?” She actually looked worried for me.
“Oh, this isn’t a boy doing this to me. This is my job-”
“You don’t have to be a p-prostitute!” I gave a sweet innocent laugh.
“You’re mistaken.” In one swift movement I sliced her throat; mission complete.