Dark Lust

Jolie

Another year.

Another fucking school.

Maybe if my mom would stop getting divorced and get her shit together, we could stay in one place instead of hopping around the country like fucking Japanese tourists in Las Vegas. I don't understand why she keeps putting herself in divorce situations. Oh, wait, I know why. Because she sucks ass at being a fake psychic and fortune teller so she has to get married to rich men and then divorce them for money to keep us alive.

We live smack dab in the center of the busiest street in Los Angeles. I don't know if it's the busiest street, but what street isn't busy here? My mother found a dump of a building that used to be a pizzeria and decided it is our new home. Our bedrooms and bathroom are upstairs while the kitchen, living room, and her fortune teller room sit downstairs. Yes, it is just like in the movies. Multiple strings of beads hang from the doorway and her crystal ball sits in the center of a round table. She likes to keep the whole place eerie because she says it gives people curiosity. No, she's just a pothead hippie and that's how they like to live.

I stomp down the crooked wooden stairway in my leather laced up boots and meet my mom at the dining room table. "'Sup, Belinda?" I snag a piece of bacon off the table.

I never call her mom. She hates that term. It makes her feel old. My mom gave birth to darling me at only 15. She worked odd jobs until I was ten and then decided her goal in life was to be a fucking fake to society. I will never understand why people think Tarot Cards are real. Hello, she just reads your emotions. Hell, I could even do it.

Belinda lifts off her seat with a cigarette hanging from her lips. She has on a floral kimono and pink tank top with matching floral silk shorts. Her ash blonde hair is a mess from sleep with her eye mask strapped to the top of her head. What a fucking sight to see. Watch out girls, Belinda will steal your man.

Some girls say they are a twin to their mom, I am the exact opposite. My hair is pitch black, my skin is more on the paler side, but not enough to be ghostly. I can't tan to save my life. I also inherited huge tits and big ass and I know I didn't get that from her.

"Let me see you!" She looks at me with loving eyes and makes me turn around for her. I do so lazily. "My gorgeous girl in her senior year of high school. I could cry right now.

I chose a dark violet t-shirt and the darkest jeans I own for my outfit of choice. To top it off, I make sure to have on my famous black leather jacket with a bloody rose embroidered on the back. I found this gem at a thrift store when I was fourteen and have never left the house without it. I don't even own another jacket.

"Guess what? I have five clients already scheduled for today! Isn't that great?"

"Fabulous." My tone is dull as I pick up another piece of bacon.

"Here," She thrusts business cards into my chest. "Pass these out to your classmates."

"No thanks. I would rather run around the school grounds naked than have them know my mom is a fortune teller."

"When I become the greatest fortune-teller known to man, who will be the one laughing in the end?"

"Still me. Even your fantasy is out of your league."

I take the cigarette from her mouth and inhale it before giving it back to her. She rolls her eyes at me.

"Get your own."

"Let me borrow a couple. Please, I'll pay you back when I pick up a pack after school."

"Fine, whatever. I want Camels, not the shit you smoke."