Lost Hope

The image she held for herself was so low, she'd resorted to prostitution. Her buyer for the hour led her into an empty room. She sighed, knowing she would have to please him or she would face abuse from her master, her pimp. This was the life she lived, day by day. It held no happiness, no hope. She had no one, no one to love her, no one to love back, no one to rescue her from her shitty life, no one she wanted to touch. All she had were the scumbags that bought her by the hour, the pimp who sold her out, the rest of the whores who kept to themselves. But she had no right to judge, she was a whore herself. She danced her way up to the buyer, pleasing his desires. She longed to have someone to call her own, to end this life as a prostitute, settle down into love, marriage. She realized she held nothing more but lost hope.

 -Amber Crockett