Peaches holds a secret that binds her to a lifestyle she was forced into at a young age. She is made to perform, excite, and to satisfy; a wealthy asset to her powerful employer, Daddy. Forever a servant to the empire he has built, freedom is a drea...
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Two whole trash bags bulging with heroin junk, and Momma's room was was still unclean. There was food everywhere, used needles, dirty blackened spoons laying next to dead lighters, and discarded cigarette butts. I spent an entire hour and a half of my day piling up every morsel of filth into the thin plastic layers of those poor mint-scented bags.
That was just the garbage, I hadn't touched the laundry tangled up with her pillows and bedding, or the boxes filled with random trinkets she'd been collecting over the years.
There were stages to cleaning her methodical mess of chaos and grime, and no matter how hard I worked I was still on square one. At least I could look forward to the grand finale of it all, a clean and lemon fresh room with crisp vacuum lines in the carpeting.
It's a long journey to the end of that road, that's for sure.
"You know what, nope," I dropped the nearly ten-pound bag of garbage down and threw my hands up. "Now is not the time."
I needed to get out of this house just as much, if not more than these over-stuffed bags. A part of me almost wanted to escape off to work to get away from this hell hole of a mess, to be able to breathe fresh air for once.
Almost.
Deciding on a happy medium, I set out to get myself some coffee, and maybe some new outfits. I had a lot of making up to do tonight when Chris returns, and in that case, a new lingerie piece might be exactly what I needed to rectify the situation.
Caught in a lie.
A deadly one.
And I'm bold enough to assume underwear would fix it? Laughable.
-
"Hello?" Candy finally answered after the third time I tried calling.
With an eye roll, I twirled my iced Americano around in the tall plastic cup before I stuck my straw between my teeth for a good chew.
"Briel? Are you there?" She sniffled loudly over the phone, but I was sure that it wasn't because she was crying.
And she sure as hell wasn't sick.
"I'm mad at you."
"What? Because of Zach?" Immediately jumping to the defensive, she knew that she had done me wrong. Ignoring me while I was going through hell, silent and alone in that God awful home, rotting along with the garbage. "I knew it would piss you off. I'm sorry, baby, I didn't mean to upset you."
"You're high, aren't you?"
"Not really."
"Whatever, just get in."
"Get in? What do you-"
"I'm in your driveway, so get your butt out here and come shopping with me."
