$15 Dress, Million Dollar Attitude

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                                                                        Prologue

"Hey babe, aren't you gonna stay?" He asked, pulling at my holey tights, trying to grasp to some sort of fabric. I flicked his grubby fingers off and stood up, straighting out the wrinkles in my dress. Prancing over to the bedside table, I plucked the wad of money and shoved it into my coat pocket. Throwing my hair over my shoulder, I walked out of the motel room and out of his life.

Since you are just joining me, I will tell you straight out...I'm a prostitute. Scandalous, I know. Right now, you're probably thinking, I'm some sort of whore who does this for money. Well, I am a whore and I do this type of work for money. It is a job, it takes a lot of work to pleasure a man. I shouldn't know how to at nineteen.

My name is Francis, middle name unknown, last name doesn't matter. I'm pretty sure my parents were confused when they had me because, they gave me a boy name. Then again, maybe they wanted me to toughen up. The story of my name, is long forgotten or at least buried in a grave covered with dirt rotting. 

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