Snippet of - "Borgata" - Find the Full Chapter On My Wattpad Profile!

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This is NOT the end of Omertà, as I will continue regular updates.


However, since Borgata is a prequel and the first couple of chapters do not give (much) away, I will be uploading BORGATA from time to time on my Wattpad profile, while updating Omertà and Death Is My BFF.


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Stay tuned for a Ferret & Scarlett update!!


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Chapter 1


SAM


Once upon a time doesn't set a story like mine, so let's start this off right.

When I was seventeen, I dropped out of high school, changed my name, chopped my hair off to a pixie cut, moved, and became a stripper.


That's right, I'm the real life version of that theatrical Tweet you sent out, when you were tired of doing your math homework.


Just for the record, I didn't just wake up one day, burn my backpack, take my clothes off, and decide it was time to be super slütty to earn my income. I dropped out of high school because I was in trouble, and my boss at the strip club, Orlando, didn't ask me any questions about my past when I approached him, desperate for a job. In fact, he just asked me if I could work the pole and waitress once in a while. It was measly pay, but I took it. Waitressing I got the hang of pretty quickly.


"Working the pole," however, would take some practice after-hours, until finally, I began to have recurring costumers.


When I just turned eighteen, my life wasn't chardonnay and caviar, but it also wasn't a greasy cheeseburger and heart-attack salty fries, either. It was barely making enough money for my rent and sometimes putting my body-my source of income-before everything and anything. It was constantly being on edge and on the edge, depressed and slowly going insane, wondering when my past would catch up with me again, and I would need that packed suite case in my apartment with another fake ID in the front pocket.


In my world, friends were out of the question. At any moment, I would have to ditch whatever life I had and start over, and nobody wanted a friend like that.


Plus, I didn't have friends because I was a huge bîtch.


At least I admitted it. Sometimes being a bîtch was a defense mechanism; most times it was because I hated people. All they seemed to do was scréw me over and chase me down for another stab at it. Can you blame me?


Family-wise, there's not really much to say. I had no siblings growing up. I'm glad I didn't, too, because they would have loathed their childhood as much as I did. My mother became addicted to crank when I was four and overdosed when I was twelve. My father isn't worth a full-conversation.



But between you and me, I loved being alone and on that edge. With nobody to anchor an arm around my waist, I wouldn't have to worry about someone pulling me back from the edge, when the fervor to survive finally burned out in me... and I jumped.

Omerta- Book I (Winner of the 2015 People's Choice Award)Where stories live. Discover now