Warning: this chapter contains hints of rape and child prostitution. If such content offends and/or triggers you, please skip this chapter.
Thursday, June 8, 2000
"An eviction notice?" Mom shreiked, staring at the pink paper that had been handed to her. The landlord looked apologetic.
"I'm sorry, ma'am, but you havn't been paying your rent." The older woman toyed with an auburn curl as she spoke.
"Bullshit! I payed it last month." The twenty-nine year old pointed an accusing finger at the other woman.
"Mrs. Thompson-"
"I'm divorced now. Don't refer to me with that name. I'm Ms. Harris now."
"Ms. Harris, the rent wasn't paid in full. I only got one thousand dollars, I need seven hundred more."
"I can get it to you by the end of the week, and we'll get you the full rent next month, I promise. Please don't evict us." She begged.
The landlord sighed and wrung out her hands. She wasn't supposed to say yes. It was the rule. But she had seen those two little girls. A tall, skinny girl around the age of eight, forced to become the mother figure for the short, chubby five year old. Those little kids were too young to be forced into this kind of life. And she didn't have the heart to make them live out on the street.
"You have until Saturday. I'm stopping by at noon. If you don't have the 700 dollars, I have no choice but to evict you."
Wedensday, June 9, 2000
"Elizabeth, get your ass over here!" Liz jumped up from the kitchen table and rushed into the living room. Her mother was dolled up in her 'uniform': an extremly short skirt which showed off her legs, and a tight top. Her hair was piled atop her head in a messy bun. Her eyes were dark and dramatic, and a glossy red was painted on her lips.
"You're coming to work with me tonight." She announced.
"But, Mom, what about Patti?"
"Patti will be fine. Come on, get your shoes on."
Wedensday, June 9, 2000 (cont.)
The bar was dingy and dark. The scent of beer mixed with cigaratte smoke coated the oxygen in the room, causing the underage child to gag. Her mother elbowed her in the rib. A boy with an acne-scarred face stood behind the bar, mixing drinks for the customers: sweating, greasy men and women done up in tall heels and too much perfume. A song with guitars and screaming boomed across the bar. This was unlike any place she had ever seen before.
A tall man with slicked back hair and work slacks approached the pair. Then man kissed her mother on both cheeks.
"Linda, honey, it's so very nice to see you." He spoke with a thick accent.
"Same to you, Edward." She smiled and batted her lashes.
"Who is this?" He gestured to Liz, who felt the urge to crawl under a table.
"This is my daughter, Liz." Edward looked at Ms. Harris in confusion, and she gestured him closer.
"I got an eviction notice yesterday. I need to make 700 dollars by Saturday, or we get kicked out. I can't make that much alone in a week, so I brought Liz along. Please don't report us, I'm only doing this out of necestiy." Linda muttered in Edward's ear. He glanced down at Liz, then back at Linda. He nodded, but his eyes looked unsure.
"Who's this little lady?" A man with cowboy boots and a Southern accent asked, gesturing down at Liz.
"This is Elizabeth, my daughter. She's here to help me work. Wanna be her first time ever, Harry?" Linda asked, her voice suddenly honey smooth and feather soft.
"Hell yes I do, Ms. Linda. C'mon back, Elizabeth."
Thursday, June 10, 2000
After what seemed like an eternity, the dark bar began to light. It was finally morning. Liz was exhausted, and her face felt sticky and stiff from dry tears. Her throat was raw from screaming and sobbing, and her legs and hips ached. Her mother finally lead her home.
Once at home, her mom wanted immediatly to see the money. Liz had gotten three hundred dollars last night, and her mother had made three hundred dollars.
"You can rest today. I asked the landlord before we left to take Patti to school." Liz nodded. "And go shower, you smell like alchohol." Her mother snapped.
Liz walked down the hall to the restroom, stumbling every now and then from lack of sleep. A warm shower would be nice, Liz decided. However, once she stepped under the jets of water, she remembered this house didn't have warm showers. Looking down at her naked body, she could see bruises on her hips and thighs, and the forming of bruises on her chest and arms. Red marks dotted her wrists. She ached everywhere.
When Patti came home, Liz was lying in bed.
"Lizzy, wanna play?" She asked, bouncing on the bed.
"Sorry, Patti. Not today. I'm sick."