Empty

Popuri woke up to the sound of birds chirping outside. Once again, she'd wake up to an empty bed. The night prior she and Kai had been intimate together. She remembered how Kai used his cheesy pick up line, and how she took the bait. She had been used again, but that didn't bother her. Her motives were just as underhanded as his.

Popuri always felt the need to be desired. She wanted guys to call her beautiful. She wanted to feel special. In truth, she knew it was a shallow urge. In the end she'd always wind up alone anyway. Her selfish habit only deepened her depression. Every morning she'd wake up feeling filthy. Dirty. Ashamed. Eventually the feeling would wear off, for she was used to it.

From the first day she lost her innocence, she had been tainted. She acted shamefully but didn't care. She broke hearts and crushed souls but didn't mind. She allowed herself to be violated and taken advantage of when vulnerable, but not once did it phase her.

Popuri envied Ann, who had Cliff. She envied Mary who was committed to Gray. She felt jealous of Karen who was celebrating her fourth year with Rick. Despite her awful habit, all Popuri ever truly wanted was to love and in turn be loved. She wanted to be in a relationship and have a sense of security. On the dangerous path she was currently on, she felt anything but safe.

Popuri got out of bed and slipped out of her clothes. Noticing a bruise, she smirked. Sometimes guys would get rough with her. She remembered Kai had slapped her and called her a cheap whore. While she heard the word many times, it wasn't one she was particularly fond of. The thought of being a whore tormented her. She didn't want to be perceived as something so negative and despicable. Unfortunately, due to her reputation she was viewed as one in the eyes of many.

She ran her fingers through her long pink hair. It was straight and thin. She hadn't washed it in weeks, but she didn't care. Many women went out of their way to look presentable but not Popuri. She figured guys didn't care either way. She knew she would never have a long term boyfriend and as much as that bothered her, she understood the reasoning. No man wants a slut.

After getting dressed, Popuri headed out of the room and down the stairs of the Inn. It wasn't her place of residence but it was a place she was rather familiar with. Ann, the local barmaid winced in disgust at the sight of Popuri but tried her best to hide her distaste for the girl. "I hope you enjoyed your stay. Come again soon." Popuri saw right through Ann's phony smile but remained silent. She always avoided confrontation.

Leaving the Inn was almost a routine for Popuri. She crossed the town square, averting her eyes from the awful stares. Their whispers echoed through her head. Wherever she'd go, they'd haunt her. She sped up her pace and hurried down the path to the poultry farm, her home.

She opened the door quietly and snuck in. Immediately, her brother caught her. "Popuri, where were you?" His eyes narrowed.

Popuri crossed her arms. "What does it matter? I'm an adult and I can do whatever I please."

Rick arched his eyebrow. "You were at the Inn again, weren't you?" Her silence was all the proof he needed. "And then you wonder why no one respects you. How can they? You act like a tramp!" He scolded.

Popuri sighed. She was used to Rick's speeches; she heard them at least once a week. "Rick, I've heard this all before."

"And yet you never seem to get it!" Rick barked at his sister. Popuri rolled her eyes and marched past him. "I haven't finished!"

Slamming the door of her bedroom, Popuri collapsed into her mattress. She felt worthless. Like any habit, hers became an addiction. She wanted to quit. She wanted to stop. She couldn't help herself though. She craved the attention all the time.

She tuned out Rick's screaming and closed her eyes. She may not have been sobbing, but she was dying inside. She constantly found herself in a dark place. Popuri felt hollow. Empty. Numb. She was so tired of the emotional rollercoaster.

Every night of the week she'd been with someone.

And yet she felt utterly alone.