What we Succumb to

Chapter 1

I look hot.

I'm analyzing myself in front of my mirror placed just outside my closet.Im fashioning a light pink silk, slip dress that ends mid thigh with a cowlick neckline, adorned with silver heels. As I observe my hands I notice the minimalist jewelry complements well with my dress, making the dress stand out perfectly. I suddenly look at my face in the mirror and am pleased when I notice the straight black hair that ends at my collarbone. I also notice my makeup has granted my face a look of maturity, completely masking the anxious, money hungry, desperate 18 year old college student I truly am.

I turn to survey the small half of my dorm, my made bed, my organized desk and bookshelves. I adore books. I don't see how I could manage day to day without the escape books offer. My life has always been something I wanted to escape, I never had the luxury of viewing money as something I could lavishly spend and in college I definitely view money in a new complex form. The ideology that students enter the constitution for higher education knowing that piles of debt will most likely follow them for their whole life, while simultaneously attempting to get a high paying job to pay it off, only to be stuck in one place their whole life just because college anchored them to a life of working 9-5 everyday.

I don't want that. I will not accept my life to succumb to that.

To me that concept that has been implemented to us since such a young age is a horrible concept. You will never live, simply exist. I've seen it happen to my parents, teachers, hell even to random adults. So with that behind my consciousness I survey myself one quick time again in the mirror and mentally prepare myself for this dinner with an older gentleman, who is paying for my presence. I am beyond judgement, I need money, I need to pay for college. In all honesty I am more proud of myself for acting on this opportunity before it could pass and be offered to another desperate broke college student.

My best friend-my only friend- understands my struggle with money and has consistently told me about this opportunity but I have always denied her. I denied her for fear of judgement from others, but since last week I got fired from my job as a waitress I no longer care about ridicule.

Ridicule me all you want if you give me money, however if you don't go fuck yourself.

I take a quick grab for my phone and notice the time, it's six in the evening. The gentlemen I'm meeting messaged me mentioning he made a reservation for seven o'clock. With that reminder I sigh, he may have money but won't bother to pick me up. Rude. I quickly grab my car keys as well as my purse holding my essentials, and with the last look in the mirror I'm ready to leave.