“I don’t have to tell you you’re beautiful, you hussy. You’re getting paid.”

She turned her face away and let the man do what he wanted with her. She wouldn’ be paid very much this time. But it didn’t matter because that money would only be used to buy the cigarettes, drugs and small amount of food that kept her alive.

And there was no reason any more. Sam was dead. The only precious, wonderful, beautiful thing in her life. He was rotting under the creek bed, stripped of clothing and belongings. She cringed at the thought of his face decaying and filled with dark, wet soil.

Her body moved instinctively beneath the man who was threatening to crush her. A sigh rattled its way out of her lungs. To think that it didn’t matter was the greatest comfort to her.

She was a worthless, ugly girl in a meaningless, ugly world.