01

221 8 4
                                    


ALYSSA

  Its night time and the nightclub is blinking with millions of disco lights.
I can hear the muffled sound of music pulsing wildly, despite being far away from the dance floor.
Im in the changing room, stripping my jeans and shirt to the club's normal work attire: a black, cocktail dress that falls short to my thighs.
I should be bartending right now, but instead, im sitting on a long wooden bench, staring blankly at the piece of paper in my hand.
The invoice is £100,000 for my brother's medical bill. My heart threatens to rupture in my chest.
How the hell can I get this much money in such a short time?
Squeezing my eyes shut, I bury my head in my hands. Ever since my parents died, my life had gone to hell.
The debt collectors came after the funeral and took all of our assets, until there was nothing left.
I was left on the empty streets with my younger brother. That day, we became two homeless broken people.
That day, I became the head of the family, I dropped out of university and started working in a nightclub.
The job is shit, but the pay is good. There are handsome tips from the male customers as long as I flash them my cleavage and fake a smile.
With these money, I managed to rent out a cheap condo and other daily necessities.
I thought we were going to be okay, until my brother got diagnosed with Leukimia.
And my hell, suddenly becomes unbearable to breathe.This time, desperation clings to me as I stare at the medical bill. I need this money soon, otherwise they would refuse to do my brother's surgery.
I groan in frustation, balling my hands into fists.
There has to be a way, because I will not lose my brother.
I've already lost everything. If I lose my brother... I dont think I can survive.
My world would fall apart.
Right now, my brother is the one who makes me get up every single day, rather than giving up.
He's the reason for my existence.
Whatever happens, I wont let him die, even if I have to do whatever it takes to earn this money.
The money Im currently earning from bartending isnt enough to cover the bill.
I need more... a lot more.

Shall I sell my organs? I dont need an extra kidney.
... Or shall I sell myself?

That thought fills me with such a dread and i want to be sick

"Hey lisa , are you still in there? Hurry up, we need more hands here!", a sharp voice from the other side of the door makes me jump.

"Coming!" I quickly fold the bill and tuck it in my pocket, before i step out of the door.
...

The nightclub is specially busy today and Im on my feet the entire night pouring out drinks to the customers.
I smile so hard that my cheeks hurt. Beneath every smile, there's pain, pain so deep that it suffocates me.
Still, I smile, I keep a happy face on and bend slightly over the tables, revealing my cleavage.
I hate doing this, like Im some cheap whore that men lusts after, but happy customers means money.
And I need tons of it right now.
True enough, some customers slips cash inside my bra, fondling my breast at the same time.
I refrain myself from slapping their faces as slimy hands touches me.
(You fucking horny bastards...)

"Thank you so much, gentlemen. Keep them coming", I smile through my teeth.
Im so tired of doing this same shit over and over, and letting these men leer at me.
Its funny how fate turns out. I used to be somebody. I had a bright future, with my perfect life planned out.
Now, Im a nobody.

Devil With Angel Wings Where stories live. Discover now