Chapter 0003

Tiffany

I sat with my legs sprawled on my old couch in my small, cramped flat sitting room, looking at the paper in front of me.

I continued to stare at the list I had made with my own hands last week. I made a list of things I needed to buy for my sister and myself, and after a week, I had only completed one of the twelve.

I lean back on the couch with a grimace on my face, stroking a palm over my face in frustration.

How in the hell did life get this bad? At twenty-four, I still fought to make ends meet, pay my sister's tuition, pay for this goddamned old flat, put food on the table and occasionally get myself what I needed.

Jobs did not always come easily in Los Angeles. After my parents died while I was only eighteen years old and my sister was fourteen, I had to drop out of college in my first year.

My life altered after I was admitted to New York University. Everything about it. When I closed my eyes, I saw everything happen again in front of my eyes.

I could see my mother's body being taken from under that horrible car in the middle of the road, blood splashed everywhere and a couple leaking out on the ground.

My father was still trapped someplace beneath our burning estate car.

When one of my friends called me to come to an accident scene, I couldn't believe what I saw.

I wanted to tell her that I was studying in the nearby library, but she was just going to tell me that I took everything too seriously, that exams weren't even close yet, and that I should 'chillax', so I closed the book and raced out of the library.

Only I didn't realise the crash victims were my parents. I recall my name being called and my head spinning.

The next thing I remember is waking up in the hospital and frantically asking for my parents. My sister Amila was crying.

The physicians informed me that my parents had passed away, despite their best efforts. I felt bewildered for the first time in my life.

I wasn't sure how to feel. I felt broken, but I could only image what Amila was going through. She was still so young, and she did not deserve something as horrible as this.

I wasn't working at the time and needed to take care of Amila and myself.

Our parents did not work for the government, thus there was no sympathy money for bereaved children.

We had never had a home, and it quickly dawned on me that I needed to pay for the flat or we'd be sleeping on the streets the following year.

I remember waking up that night and seeing Amila sleeping beside me, and I knew right away that I needed to step up and take action.

Amila was in her second year of high school, and someone needed to do something for the family, to keep everything together.

We had no family members I could call, and almost no one on our side. It was just us against the world, and that sensation stayed with me for years.

I never wanted to leave Amila behind; I wanted to be there for her anytime she needed me. I always had my own back, and that was enough for me.

For the next two weeks, I missed a handful of classes and looked for work. The first job I had was posting flyers for a terrible musical band.

They were a group of teenage street scumbags who aspired to be famous musicians and frequently held musical band parties in the city's filthy, dark alleyways.

The remuneration was insufficient; it barely covered the basics. All of my earnings went towards two things: food and Amila's education costs.

I needed more before the end of the month. So I began looking for a better-paying job.

I must have been naive and desperate the night I stopped in front of the dimly illuminated stripper club, where a statue of a naked lady flashed in neon lights against a dancing pole on the building's front roof.

I knew this was the only job that paid so well in Los Angeles. I would have enough money in two months if I walked in and signed up to be a stripper.

But I paused before I could make my initial move inside the club because a sequence of thoughts entered my mind.

One: I was definitely too young for this type of employment and would just stroll in to disgrace myself.

Two: I was still virgin. How was I meant to work there as a virgin?

Three: I was not prepared for a life like this. I needed money, but I knew I wasn't made out for it.

Before I knew it, I was heading back through the darkness. That's when I noticed the vacancy sign posted in front of a restaurant.

I couldn't be more grateful to have stumbled across this. I hurried in and told them I needed the job.

*

Three days later, after completing the appropriate application procedures, I was working as a waitress in a modest restaurant.

The labour was difficult, but the income was higher than posting posters for two different bands.

Every day, before leaving home, I would serve customers and scrub the sink.

After one week, everything began to weigh on me, but I refused to give up. I would be used to it.

After one week of working there, I realised I couldn't keep up with school while also working the manner I needed to, so I considered dropping out.

I didn't have much to lose, and there was always enough time for that. After all, I was still extremely young.

My best friend, Laurene, was concerned because I was constantly missing courses while working morning shifts at the restaurant.

I wasn't sure if I should tell her I was leaving school right then. A month later, after writing my examinations, I was able to stay put for the second semester and complete year one of college.

That's when I decided to draw the straw.

I opted to focus on my profession and getting Amila through school.

That was all I cared about; I'd think about myself later.

After a year of working for the tiny restaurant, I realised that the pay wasn't really good.

The money only covered present necessities, not future bills. So I started seeking for new jobs. I saw a job opening for a barman in a high-end casino downtown, and after speaking with the management, the pay seemed extremely acceptable to me.

Two times as much as the restaurant paid me. The place was rough, but I didn't mind. I'd handle it later. Amila was about to graduate from high school, and I needed to start saving for her university.

I was not going to let her drop out like me. After a few days, my application was accepted, and I began working there gladly. Until a month ago, when everything went wrong.

I always worked as a barman at the casino, which was full of filthy rich men who didn't know what else to do with their money except gamble it away and call it a lifestyle.

I was always relieved that I wasn't working as a call girl or hooker, who loitered around playing games with these men and served as their 'lucky charms', and I was more than happy with that.

Then, one fateful evening, my manager, Hardin McAllen, began flirting with me and squeezing my buttocks whenever he called me out to carry drinks to his'special visitors'.

I knew from the moment I started working at his casino that he would always stare lustfully at me and throw amorous grins and jokes at me.

But that night, he decided that two years of patience had been enough.

I remember telling him at the end of my shift, "I really didn't like what you did out there, Hardin." And he responded with a haughty

"What are you talking about, beautiful?" I scowled harder before responding, "grabbing me like that."

"Dude, what's wrong with that?," he asked, his arms splayed apart as he inserted a cigarette into his lips.

“Stop acting like a fucking holy Mary, Tiffany," he continued harshly.

The following day, he absolutely disregarded me, making me feel worse about myself, which was terrible.

But I couldn't leave the job, no matter how uncomfortable it made me. That's not to add the perverts who winked at me multiple times and invited me to sleep with them in their opulent hotels when they left.

Some provided their phone numbers, while others did not. I always turned them all down. I just wasn't interested in that kind of lifestyle. I knew most girls in my situation would jump at the chance.

The money each man would spend for a hookup with them would most likely be considerably more than I earned as a barman in a month.

So, why not? After a long period of staring at the infinite list in my palm, I leaned back in my chair and let out a deep sigh.

Amila was already out and attending school. I began working the night shift today, so I was able to get some decent, quality sleep. I awoke at 9:54 a.m. today.

The first thing that came to mind was Amila's college fees. I was meant to roll it over next month, but I hadn't even saved anything yet.

I couldn't wait for my compensation from the Club, which arrived a week after her tuition payment was due.

I was just confused. I started looking for other shifting jobs that would pay me two incomes in one month, but it was proving to be more difficult than I anticipated.

I was always at home when my shifts ended, which I know is a good thing because it allows me to spend more time with my sister and best friend, but I need more money than those difficult periods.

Throwing the paper far across the couch, I made a mental reminder to go grocery shopping today before Amila returned.

Just then, I heard a ring on my door, and as eerie as it felt, the bell seemed to scream in an urgent tone.

Just as it rang, my door swung wide, displaying my best friend, Laurene Billy, standing out with a big grin on her lips and sparkling eyes on me.

“I've got some good news for you, Tiffy!!!" She screamed joyfully.