Murderville Page 0,28

and sped up the block. Her heart pumped wildly as she placed the empty pistol back into her bag. The gun was just for show . . . they were given to all of the girls just to ensure that they were protected from their johns. Despite the fact that there was always a ‘shepherd’ lurking on the block to watch over the working girls, the guns gave them an extra sense of protection. The unloaded .22 had gotten Liberty out of many bad situations and that night was no different. Liberty’s hair whipped wildly on the windy L.A. night as she walked at a fast pace up Sunset Boulevard. She rushed into a party store and knocked on the bulletproof glass.

“Yo, Liberty! What’s good, baby girl?” the counter boy asked. “You looking good, girl. When you gone let me get some of that?” he jokingly inquired. Liberty had been on the track for eight long years and since the first time the young Mexican kid had seen her, he had tried his hand with her.

“You can’t afford it, Juan,” she replied with an innocent smirk. No other girl on the block could even enter the convenience store unless they were spending money, but Juan had taken a liking to Liberty. He knew what she did but he didn’t judge her for it. He allowed her to clean up in the store’s restroom whenever she needed. He passed her the key and gave her a wink as she passed.

As soon as Liberty was inside the safety of the bathroom she locked the door and removed the money she had just made. Her hands flipped through bills efficiently. $322, she thought. She removed the $100 that she would have to turn in, before lifting the lid off the back of the toilet. She pulled out the small stash that she had made by overcharging her johns and added the extra money to it before putting it back and replacing the porcelain top. If she ever got the chance to escape, she wanted to have the funds to get out of town and although her chances were slim . . . this small hustle kept her hopeful. After stashing her money, she pulled out some baby wipes and propped one leg up on the sink as she cleaned her vagina. She had become so used to the routine that she was no longer ashamed of what she was doing. It was all in the name of survival. After eight years of being forced to sell her body and soul, every dick felt the same. She didn’t know how to equate sex with love. She had stopped believing in fairy tales long ago. Her childhood had been flushed down the toilet the moment that Ezekiel had raided her unsuspecting village. Liberty was damaged goods and as she stared into the mirror all she could see were flaws. It was unreal how she was blind to a beauty that everyone else could clearly see. It didn’t exist to her; she couldn’t see her own mystique through her tainted vantage point. The everyday haze that she lived in made life almost bearable, and as she pulled out the small heroin-filled ziplock bag her stomach began to turn in anticipation. She wasn’t allowed to shoot it up, despite the fact that it gave her the best high. She felt like she was flying on the rare occasion that she could sneak a needle into her veins, but because it left tracks marks on her arms she was banned from indulging in that way. Instead, she sniffed it and she popped Ecstasy as often as she could get her hands on it. Liberty had a nasty heroin habit, one that the traffickers happily maintained. Keeping her high kept her submissive as she worked the streets. She could never run too far away. Liberty was no fool. She had seen some of the other girls try to escape only to be lured right back by the monkeys on their backs. This is why she saved up her own money, little by little, so that if the day ever came she would be able to support her insatiable cravings and purchase a one-way ticket out of town. As a euphoric feeling crawled through her system she cleared the extra dust from her nose and left the bathroom. She returned the key, buying a pack of cigarettes on her way out before returning to the strip.

“Hey, Lib, wait up!”

Liberty turned