The Woman in Prison Cell 15

Often I'm asked, have I lost my sense of pride? Some even dare ask me what made me stoop so low. They say that I'm better than that, you know? Well, it's not like I've wanted to become like this or to be here. I never once said that I wanted to be like this when I grew up. Believe it or not, I avoided being where I was, and for all I know, I was a good girl. But right now, I'm not. I don't want to be here.

Do you mind if I smoke? Oh, don't worry about them, they wouldn't care, those damn policemen don't even know how to do their job. We're just pigs in their eyes! Here, have some. Come on, don't be shy now, boy, I'm your friend here for now. You want to have a friend, right? I know I want to have one. Prison can be quite cruel if you don't have a company.

So you don't want to smoke because of your sad love affair? Outrageous! It's like you're an obedient dog!

Nothing good comes after love. But good smoke makes all the difference! You should try this again.

Where are we again? Oh, yeah. You asked me why I became a prostitute, right...? Well, it's not a complicated story. You know the usual excuses that we hookers always say. We need money, lots and lots. So, of course, I worked hard to earn some petite cash. It just so happens that this job offers an awful lot of money! But then again, this job is dirty. Disgusting. Vile.

But hey, I get to eat thrice a day so what the hell, right?

Ahh, now I'm starting to remember when I was as young as you are right now! Or maybe younger? Ah, whatever! The point is I was so beautiful back then, and I know right now in my current state you won't believe that once I won a very prestigious beauty pageant! Those were the days where I would look in the mirror and tell myself I am the most beautiful woman in the whole world! And my goodness, everybody agrees!

I have this very silky smooth hair, and every girl wants to have the same! It's because those insecure sluts don't have one of these! A lot of guys would sniff like hounds when they smell the scent of my favorite shampoo! And I remember how I loved it when I saw the stupid look in the girl's faces every time they see me. Jealous bitches. I can't help it if I'm a lot more attractive than them, right? Well, time passed, it has been cruel to me and my hair! Look. Right now, I have a very dry and dull white shit on top of my head. Disgusting!

I also remember back then everybody would die to see me smile! See, look at my smile! Isn't it a sight to remember? A lot of people would die to see that back then, and oh boy, would they be very envious if they knew you saw me smile! I'm a very serious gal back then, sweetheart. I just learned how to smile in my later years. But I'm already old; if you could've seen me in my adolescence, then you'd be so captivated by me I'd bet you'd leave that lover of yours!

I'm joking! No need to be so serious! I'm not trying to insult or to degrade your darling, honey-bunny! I'm just saying that I'm a better choice! Hahahahahahaha!~ I'm just kidding, pretty-boy! Life is too short; you need to enjoy every millisecond! Or else you'd see yourself dead and filled with regret.

Boy, do I want to go back to the dark past and swoosh all my bullshit away! Go back to the days where I still have a rockin' body!

That's right, my dearest! This old buffoon in front of you was once beautiful. I had this pale skin that everyone wanted to caress! A perfect sexy body that no man on Earth wouldn't drool once they see! They would crave to taste my magnificence! And I'm telling you, boy, just the sight of me is a privilege, what more if they get to touch? Now that is what you call an honor! After all, as I said before, I am the most beautiful creature on this entire ugly planet! Perhaps I'm even the most beautiful creation that God ever created!

I was a goddess!

Oh, but I am not boasting, no, not at all! Was I too prideful? But I am merely stating the fact! I am beautiful, and you know it! Even in my age, a lot of dicks would like to have a taste of my smelly pussy! God forgive their souls! Because once they get to kiss the insides, they'd die after receiving sheer pleasure! Outrageous boys! They don't think logically once their dick is inside, and once they realized how hard they fucked up, boom! They'll zip their mouth and run away like a fool!

Life is good if you're beautiful! Everybody loves you while everybody hates you too. It's complicated. You wouldn't understand. You're not beautiful, after all! Hahahahahaha!

But life is hard, you know, it's not always going to be the way you wanted it to be even if you're beautiful. You wouldn't have it all. We don't get to decide what will happen to us. And life is probably an ugly bitch too because she has given me so many darn misfortunes in the past to the point that I've thought that she's probably jealous of how beautiful I look. I bet she thought I was too perfect to live, too beautiful to die.

My father lost his job and my mother, oh, my mother. I've always pitied my mother, especially when I saw her hanging in the ceiling, lifeless. I cried; I cried so many times.

I stopped coming to school. We don't have money; I don't have a choice. No talent agency would hire the beautiful me. I may be the most beautiful woman in the whole world, but I'm not at all useful. I have no academic background, so no one would want to hire me. I keep asking myself, why wouldn't they take me? I am fucking gorgeous! I was so divine! I may be a stupid, good for nothing imbecile, but every time I would look in the mirror, I feel relieved because although I am useless, at least I'm still beautiful. And those talent agency cucks just lost themselves their best product!

So, yeah, what else? Well, let's cut the chase now, shall we? I became a prostitute when I was eighteen years old, I think? Or was I seventeen? It doesn't matter! I really can't remember anymore. The point is, I sell. Every single motherfucker in that filth of a place liked me, from the most arrogant kids to the poorest old geezers who want a taste of some delicate young meat. Oh boy, they can't get enough of me! I tasted so good, boy, my pussy is the shit in that club back then.

Back then.

Of course, they'd want it. My patrons even say my cherry tastes sweet. I've made them hooked, and then I'll say I was happy that they like me. The truth is, I am disgusted, I am very offended. But I got used to it, you know? So don't be so hard on yourself here, you'll get used to it in no time, sugar!

Yes, endure. Endure again and again. That's how I continued to live in this vile place. That's how I managed to live my life.

If it hurts, close your eyes. If it's good, I'll let the man do it better. If they leave bruises, I'll put some bandages on it. If it itches, I'll scratch it till it's red. If it's dirty, I'll wash it. If I got sick, I'd put some makeup on. If you're in this kind of industry, a couple of diseases now and then is not surprising. Hopefully, I didn't die because of STD, but I know from the very beginning that I'm already dead inside. Every stranger's cock I taste and take kills my soul bit by bit, and I'm surprised that I still have something to call a soul inside of me after all that.

I always called death, over and over again. But the fucker never appeared.

I tried to hang myself. But then a man suddenly stopped me from doing it. I cried in his arms. Of course, I had sex with that guy as thanks, and yes, it's free of charge! He moaned and gasped the entire time, saying how my insides feel so tight and all those bullshit. Well, the sex did felt great, though. I never saw that man ever again.

I tried to use a gun. But I failed. Look, my head still has an awful scar. I survived a gunshot point-blank in my head, and I'm not a proud survivor.

I've thought of overdosing myself with pills, but I remembered I'm too broke to buy those things, so I scratched the idea. It was a good idea, though; I'm sure nothing could've stopped me if I did that.

I tried to cut my wrist, self-harm. That's what the doctors called it. The landlord of the apartment I lived in saw me lying on the floor bathing with my blood; I didn't die yet obviously. I survived, and the hospital said that it was a miracle. It seems that miracles do happen; it just happens at certain times when you least expect them. Or at times when you don't want them to happen.

I tried to kill myself by lying in the middle of the road, waiting for someone crazy, sleepy, or drunk enough to squash me with an eight-wheeler truck's wheel for instant death! No sane driver squashed me. They even called me out, shouted at me; they were furious! They keep saying I'm disturbing the traffic, I should kill myself off somewhere else, so on and so forth. No one dared to stop by, step off their expensive vehicles, and help me get up. Two hours later, I gave up. I just stood up and tried to go home when I heard the loud honking noise of an eighteen-wheeler truck rushing towards me with incredible speed. Finally, oh, it's here! I could see a blinding light in front of me that would take me to hell where my mom is, but when I was about to accept my death, you know, with all that my entire life flashes before me drama, the truck stopped just an inch before me. The drivers stepped off the car and asked if I was alright or if I needed some help. I proceeded to laugh and cry at the same time after hearing that. I had a threesome with the truck drivers that night. It felt great.

I tried to jump from a bridge, but an older woman stopped me saying that I still have a lot of time left, and I should live life to the fullest. The problem is, I don't want to live anymore. Nosy bitch should've stuck his nose somewhere else. But you know what, she had a point. It's nonsense to kill myself. It was expensive too, and heck, I didn't get anything from it, not even the ending that I wanted.

I tried plenty of things to kill myself back then. Too many to mention actually. It seems that the only one who can resist my beauty is death. But I know sooner or later, death will give up, and just like any other else, he, too, would succumb into temptation and have his way with me. After all, I am incredibly gorgeous! Time would come, and he wouldn't be able to keep his eyes away from me.

Too perfect to live, too beautiful to die.

And now I'm here lying in this shithole, trying to "repent" for what I've done! Screw that! It just brings forth the tears I've longed to conceal. I can't do it anymore.

Haha, makes you laugh, huh? So melodramatic, so not me! It's not my style to get all teary-eyed because of what I did in the past. I really can't change it anymore. I'm teary-eyed because never have I imagined that my life could become so horrible! I've always thought that my rose-colored days would remain just the way it was because that's how I thought life works. As much as you're beautiful, life will go smoothly to you.

I was so wrong.

What happened next is that I had this client, right? Oh, how lucky I was to meet him. I was twenty-two then, and he was, uh, I think he was about twenty-five? I'm not sure, but he was gorgeous! He's tall, very handsome, has the build of a real man, and his voice! Oh! It was like Odin himself molds him! The way he looks at me when we first met at the bar, the way he sips his whiskey without breaking contact, and the aura surrounding him that makes me want to kneel and worship him for being such an alpha man! He was something.

He's one of a kind, that man was. The best client anyone could ever dream of; he is the man in every girl's dreams. He knows how to talk; oh, he's a pro at talking! He seems very possessive and dominant of me, but he is so gentle as well that if he'd scratch my skin just a little bit, he'd think that I might break like a fragile glass. And although I find it very, very charming of him to care for me so, I still believe that I'm just another useless woman in his eyes. I mean, no one would love a prostitute like me! How could I assume things?

He's sweet, but what if that's just how he treats everyone? He gives me flowers, and so what? Flowers aren't that expensive, right? It's just a bouquet! He tells me beautiful things and compliments my clothes, my hair, my looks, my makeup, but what does it matter? Those are simple compliments! A man of high class and standards like him is probably giving thousands of the same compliments every day! And sure, he would tell me how much he loves me now and then, heh. It's awfully sweet of him, but you know, I can't find a way for me to accept that kind of affection, but it's very sweet of him. Oh, stop it! I'm not blushing, how old do you think I am?

I enjoy thinking about him though we are apart now. He brings a little bit of adventure in my life. A little bit of color, a little bit of passion, a little bit of fun! And for just a little bit, I was alive!

His caresses are the ones I've longed to have for so many years. The way he does me is so hot, and I just can't get enough of his huge fucking dick! Oh. Oh, my, I'm so sorry, cutie-pie, I think I'm getting a little bit overboard here. I hope you're not crept out by an ugly woman's rants about her favorite client. I'm just... I really liked him, you know. Hahaha, it's lame. I'll always be a sore loser.

You get my point already, lover boy, he shows me what love is, what it looks like for other ordinary people. I, who's already broken into pieces, was taught how to love. But I am always bothered by the wedding ring in his hands. Even if he meets me, or buy me things, or kiss me in my cheeks, or tell me that I'm the best, or if he held me in his strong hands he still wore that stupid wedding ring! And it made me feel so agitated!

But now that I've remembered, when did he even kiss me on my lips? It might not seem like a big deal for you, but it hurt me. I couldn't cry, though, no, I'm too weak to cry. At that time, I've already lost my sense of pride. I don't care about anything else anymore; all I want is for him to use me the way he wants—the way I wanted him to do. My story is getting out of hand, eh? But I'm just starting, curly-puff!

Do you mind if I light another? Thank you. By this time, I wouldn't care if this cigar would kill me. I'd be more than happy to die now than to spend the rest of my days in this... place, ugh! Uh-uh, bud! I'd rather die as graceful as I am than to rot like a ragged cloth!

Let's go back to the story, shall we? Some of the boys here only know half of what I said. They didn't know what happened next. And I like you; I don't know why but I'm drawn to you. You reminded me of my son. Can I trust you? Ahh... I know I can, I hope what you're saying is true. Lately, I have a hard time to trust people, and by lately, I mean for two years.

In a very unfortunate course of time, I made a mistake.

I became pregnant.

I didn't cry because I couldn't raise the child, nor is it because he's a burden to me. I cried because I don't know who impregnated me. Of all the men who embraced my body in the past few months, in the past few weeks, and the past few days, I still don't know who the father is. All I know is that someone came inside of me and I couldn't do anything about it. It's standard protocol in every fucking bar in every city, in every state, that a whore should not be pregnant or else job's over, pack my bags, leave, and never return.

I was weak; I was lost; I was useless.

Again.

And you know me, sweetheart, once things go rough, killing myself is the only alternative that comes into my mind. So I did, I attempted it once, the same way my mother did. But this time, I am certain no one would be able to stand in my way. So I took the noose and looked straight at the hole where my head should be in, thinking of doing the right thing to do. This time my life didn't flash right in front of me, no. There's only one thing that was on my mind back then. As I peered through the noose, the face of my favorite client showed up at me, and he said to me, I shouldn't do it. I asked him why I'm a mistake. I'm an abomination! Why must I live? And I know he's only an illusion, but he said to me,

"I love you."

That's all that I needed. Suddenly, a blinding light filled my life, eating away all the darkness with me and the shadows it leaves in my heart. I said I was ready; I told myself I'm prepared to live, I can finally accept death's postponement letter!

So I stood up, took my baby in my hands, and held my head up high. For the first time in a very long time, I was proud of myself. For such a long time, I loved myself because of the smile of my son. My son gave me hope. He is the only reason why up until now I'm still alive because I don't want him to feel the things I've felt before. I wanted him to have a life far better than mine. I want him to feel loved because I've never felt that. And I don't want to lose the only thing giving me pride!

I'm sorry I'm getting a little bit emotional. A whore's tear holds no meaning. Please don't mind it. Because up until now, I still can't believe that the man who was once my favorite client told me that he would raise my child and give me money to support me! He is not his child, but he would spend real money on him for my sake!

And then I told myself, maybe it's right for me to assume things now. Maybe... Just maybe.

He loves me.

I raised my son. With the man I loved beside me, knowing that our temporary contract as prostitute and client is finally over, he's still carrying my baby in his hands, he still cared for me with tenderness, and that made me love him even more. That made me feel very, very special. Just by having a place in his heart made me feel like I own the world. And for the first time, I demanded him one single thing. Just one single thing, and that's it; I will not ask for more.

Please, take your ring off.

And he did it. Every time he meets me, there's no ring, nothing! I can still feel that he cares for me, I could feel that even if I may be shameless right now, I still have hope! A whore can assume, too. Perhaps, I assumed too much.

Sure, my lover and I had a lot of good times together. For a very long time, our relationship persisted for over a decade! Can you believe that? We were together, and he wouldn't want anybody else to touch me; he said that I'm supposed to be loyal to him, and I should forget my days of being a whore. I should only be devoted to him and nothing but him.

And so I assumed that he loves me the same way I do with him. As I said, I assumed too much.

He gave me a house to live in, but it seems that I only exist every night. I'm like a little damsel in distress trapped by my prince-charming. All I do in that God-forsaken house is to do housework like I'm nothing but a useless housewife! I can't help it, I didn't finish my education and to top it all my lover doesn't want me to find a job! He said that he'd give me money, but what about my entertainment? I never did anything but to please cocks since I was a teenager!

My beauty is not supposed to stay in a dull house with nothing but authentic furniture in it! My grace is meant to be paraded in the outside world, to be seen by everybody in the vast universe! That is the way of a true goddess! I am not to be contained in this cramped vessel! I am better off free like the others!

I've become too prideful. I didn't realize that I was becoming ungrateful to my lover. And just like that, snap, it's all gone!

When my son reached eleven years old, my lover left me. He said he doesn't want to meet with me ever again. He said he doesn't want anyone in his family to know about us. He said he's fed up with our relationship. He said I can keep anything he'd ever given to me, but he will never be a part of my life again.

I said, I understand.

I understand. I do understand, but it still hurts. Why did he cut me off like that and didn't even meet with me? We were together for over a decade! But he just said all of that in a ten-second call; he didn't even say goodbye. Am I really that dispensable that he could just toss me aside like an unused toy? I looked at my son, kissed him on the neck, and whispered that I love him because I do! The only one who loves me now is my son! And I do love him too.

My son is the only one I need. But for him to live I need to do something, I need a job, and there's only one job that I know—only one job I can do.

And back to being a whore, I did. I don't even want to look in the mirror anymore because I don't want to see how hideous I look. I would even have the urge to punch something that shows my reflection because I want to keep on believing that I am still beautiful! I was once the most beautiful woman alive; now, I'm just a woman used by old bastards. It hurts, it stinks, and it feels like shit! I do all this because I love my son. I loved him to the point that I forgot to love myself!

In a stroke of fate, oh, I don't know why, but the one who left me called me. He was panting heavily, but he sounds so happy. He said to come. I asked him where we were going. He gave me an address. I saw him outside of the house with a smile on his face. And again, for the very first time, he ran to me and kissed me on my lips. He said he wants to give me something. It's a gorgeous necklace clad with elegant diamonds. He even gave me a chocolate cake; he said that this is a mark of his love.

Did you hear that? A mark of his love.

He said he loves me! I was so happy! I don't know what to do! He asked me if I was willing to be with him forever. I said, yes, yes, I am willing. I am very willing! He wants me to follow him in his car, and we drove off somewhere! I don't know why, but he was lovely. And he was delighted. I was happy, as well.

Suddenly we stopped near a riverbank. He opened his trunk, and I was shocked! It stinks, it was bloody, inside is two bodies, dead bodies. One is decapitated, and the other one was slashed in the throat. Aside from that, everything in their body seems fine.

I screamed. I screamed so hard. I screamed as if there is no tomorrow, but he covered my face. He said with a gentle smile on his face that if I don't shut up, he will kill me too! I was scared; I nodded my head and helped him dispatch the body. Well, that was what he commanded me to do.

But unfortunately, when we're dragging the bodies towards the river, we were caught by the police. I knew it, I said to myself. I knew this would happen, but I didn't think it would happen sooner than I expected. We were caught, of course. He just looked at me with sadness. He didn't try to defend himself; he didn't try to protect me. We just let it happen.

Up until now, I never blamed him that I'm in jail. It's not his fault. It's not, okay; it's not.

But the saddest part is that my son doesn't even know a thing about this. He was left behind. I was happy that he's not a part of it. But I was sad that I even vowed that I will never let him experience the things that I've experienced before. I believe they said he was now in some orphanage, some facility where they could take care of him. But they also said they would never introduce me to him. How cruel, right? How cruel.

Isn't my story ugly?

I know. Up until now, I'm still in love with him; I don't know why.

I miss him. I miss his touch. I miss his embrace.

I wish this didn't happen. I wish we could've been together.

I wished it was just a dream. I still want to be with him.

I think I'll have another smoke. I'm sorry for being so emotional.

Don't worry about the guards; they wouldn't care.

They only treat us like pigs here, remember.

Cheers, friend. Thanks for your company.

What's that? Do you want to know his name?

Haha. Well, I'm not really trying to hide his name. I just thought that you're uninterested. I thought you already knew.

His name is Earnest Lange.

And he's the love of my life. My national anthem.

...

"That concludes, uhh... Our interview with her. As you may have already guessed, we disguised one of our team members to become an inmate for a week to get some info on her. But we only got this report, and we think it's the best we could ever get from her. As a psychiatrist, I highly recommend having her be put in a psychiatric ward instead of this prison cell."

The men started murmuring among themselves.

"Shall we move on?"