Allure (YG Story)

Chapter One

Ten days, two hundred and forty hours, thirteen hundred minutes. That's how long I've been confined to this cramped living space that I have called home. I've been trapped in this God-forsaken fleabag motel after I ran away from him.

Only he can have this much power over me even if he's not physically here. The man who has tormented me and made my life a living hell for the past three years. My boyfriend, Romello, I hate to even mention his name. Just hearing his name alone makes me nauseated and causes fear and nervousness to kick in at full-gear.

I shouldn't let him have this much power over me but I knew once I left Romello, he would set out to kill me. I was romantically involved with a deranged, sick bastard who showed me love and affection by sexually abusing me and beating my ass on a daily basis. First off, let me give a little background on me.

I'm Allure Hewitt, yes my mom named me Allure. You can blame her for giving me a stripper name. What can I really say about my mom? Not too much because I hate the bitch. She was a crack-addicted whore who sold me into prostitution when I was thirteen years old.

But before then, my hatred and resentment for her was strong. Before she sold me into prostitution, the bitch never fed me, never bought me new clothes, didn't tuck me in bed at night or read me bed-time stories. My childhood was rough and I mostly spent it alone. I didn't have any friends, no family: nobody but God and my imaginary best friend Bubbles.

Bubbles was the only person who listened to me or even cared about me. Unfortunately, Bubbles couldn't protect me from the dangers of the world I lived in. When your parent is a drug addict, you get exposed to a lot of things. I was freakishly thin, borderline anorexic because I never got food when I got home. The only time I ate was at school.

One good thing I can say about living in prostitution was at least I got fed. You don't know what it's like to go hungry and to look in the refrigerator and there's nothing there but can of spam, maybe a little milk for an off-brand cereal, a half loaf of bread and a morsel of government cheese. That was what my diet consisted of for years until I became a teenager.

I was forced into prostitution when I was thirteen because my mother sold me to a pimp for drugs. I was held captive by him until I escaped when I was eighteen years old. Those five years were hell. No teenager should ever have to go through that.

Being forced to suck off and fuck men who were old enough to be your father and grandfather. Then, to come home to be beaten by your pimp who was much older than you and constantly told that you weren't shit and all you were good for was sex. I never believed any of those words my pimp told me, which is why I was the only one who had the courage to escape.

I found out that he was killed by one of his prostitutes after she had enough. Goodbye and good riddance! I don't know what happened to my mama and quite frankly I don't give a fuck. Last I heard though was the bitch got arrested and spent about three years in jail only to get out and do the same damn thing again.

My mama sniffed and smoked as if her life depended on crack. After escaping prostitution, I came all the way to California where I could live and start a new life away from my traumatic past. Or so I thought. Everything was fine until I met Romello, the man who made my life hell again.

I've been through Hell twice, or at least that's what it felt like. If I talk too much about my life, I break down and cry which is why I don't like to talk about it. So here I am in the present, held captive in a sleazy motel room. I never leave this room. The only time I do is for housekeeping every day and I usually hide out somewhere where I won't be seen.

But today I might have to leave and go out in public. I need new clothes and underwear. I could only bring so much with me when I left because I ran, yes physically ran. If I took my car, he would definitely track me down easily. So I ran on foot for about an hour until I made it to this motel.

As I said a silent prayer, I put my black leggings and my hoodie over my head along with sunglasses to hide my face. It was 88 degrees outside but I couldn't risk being seen because I knew Romello was out there looking for me. I got on the bus quietly and kept to myself until I made it to the mall.

After paying my fare, I walked inside the building, instantly being cooled off by the air condition. I was burnin' up in this damn hoodie! I decided to take it off along with my glasses because if Romello was here in the mall, at least I'd be in the public around witnesses. I made my way to Victoria's Secret to shop for underwear first.

After buying about seventy five dollars' worth of panties and PINK sweats, I walked outside heading to one of the many stores.

"Aye lil' mama!" I heard a male voice call.

My heart rate immediately sped up as I walked faster. I didn't know if Romello had someone looking for me or not so I couldn't take any chances.

"Aye girl why you walkin' so fast?" The voice called again as I speed walked.

I ran into the nearest store hiding behind the clothes rack. At least if the person found me, I would be around somebody who could call the police.

"Why you dodgin' a nigga?" The voice called behind me in my ear, making me jump.

I turned around to find a dude covered in tattoos staring down at me, biting his lip. He was sexy I'll admit but I couldn't trust him. He might be sent by Romello.

"Why are you following me?"

"A nigga just wanted to get yo number that's all." He smiled.

"Who sent you? Romello?"

"What the hell you talkin' 'bout girl? Ain't nobody sent me. I don't know no Romello." He asked looking confused.

I sighed in relief knowing that he wasn't one of Romello's people. I guess I could trust him.

"Sorry I'm actin' a lil' spooked. I thought my ex-boyfriend sent you."

"Sound like dat nigga got you on lockdown or sum'n."

"He used to but I left him about a week ago and he been lookin' for me." I was telling him way too much information. I don't know him but it felt good to have somebody to talk to.

"What's yo name boo?" He asked me licking his lips.

"Lulu." I answered shyly.

"That's yo nickname what's you real name?" He smiled.

"Allure. I know it's a stripper name. My mama is to blame for that."

"That ain't yo real name."

"Yes it is. Here I got my license to prove it." I said showing him my driver's license.

"Why yo mama name you that?" He laughed.

"I don't know. I hate my name." I said, chuckling.

"Naw but it's pretty doe. But aye, put my number in yo phone so I can call you."

"I don't even know your name and you want my number." I giggled.

"My name YG."

"That's not your government name. What's yours since you asked for mine?"

"My name Keenon." Just as me and Keenon were conversing, I heard my name being yelled by a voice that I knew oh so well.

"I'm sorry Keenon, I, I gotta go." I said as I ran out the store.

Romello found me. Only thing I could do was try to get away from him so he wouldn't find me.