Night comes and I can’t help but cry. The darkness of it is a clear and bright picture of my life. I dread the sun setting. It’s not a sight I love to stare into and enjoy the beautiful surrounding contrary to the popular culture of many. As a matter of fact, there’s nothing that can be deemed beautiful in my life.

I live in a world of darkness. A world where I do not fit in and the judgements of the men that I rub shoulders with have branded me a name so ugly, “THE NIGHTWALKER”. I am not proud of the life I live. If I had it my way, in a perfect world, all this would be a bad nightmare that I would wake up from and live a normal life. ‘Normal’. The name itself sounds bizarre and unfamiliar. Nothing about the life I live is normal.

After years of self pity I decided that I needed to do all I could to make ends meet, after all I do have two younger siblings to look after. The dream of a good education and a decent job, what many would call normal, were shattered after the death of my parents. Yes, they left me in this God forsaken world and even those who I thought had our back showed me that mankind is a very dangerous species. At fourteen, just after the body changes that allowed me to be called a woman, I made the decision to trade my body for money. The only thing that this unforgiving world has taught me is that money is the solution to all problems. Money gives you food, shelter and all your heart’s desires. I sneer at those who say money is the root of all evil, try being hungry for a week and sleeping on the cold floor and you will realize that poverty is the root of all evil.

I hate myself and I curse the day that I was brought into this world. My profession, in the eyes of many, is only for those with loose character. I may act like I do not care but the pain and shame that it gifts me with pierce my heart and not once or twice have I thought of ending this entire ugly trick that life decided to play on me. No one would even care if I was buried six feet under. The only thing that keeps me going is my innocent siblings. I have tried all I can to hide my ugly life from them and to give them a nice education, food and shelter. I would never wish this sort of life on anyone even on my worst enemy especially on my siblings.

I stare into the mirror as I put on my makeup. It helps hide the pain and the shame and I also have to look good because I never know when my luck is due. Maybe today I will get two clients or one who will pay a good amount enough to bring food on the table. It’s not the time to cry or pity myself. I get sick with disgust when I imagine what is awaiting me. I hate the night and everything about it. I hate the person staring back at me. I wear my shortest purple dress and sky-high black heels and leave with no time to get my beauty sleep like a normal person. This is my normal, my reality. Truly, the worst things in life come free to us.


2 thoughts on “HER NORMAL”

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