"Unable are the loved to die. For love is immortality." - Emily Dickinson

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Caden's POV

10 hours ago

After crying for about ten minutes on the dirty concrete ground, I finally manage to haul myself up. My steps falter as I think of the days following: being kicked out of our apartment, sleeping on the streets or in a homeless shelter, begging for money.

With that thought, tears prick my eyes. I try to calm myself as much as possible but a lone tear manages to escape, slowly gliding down my cheek.

My mind goes to Cole. What is he going to think?

He punished me severely when I refused to sleep with our landlord. What's he going to think when I tell him that we're going to be homeless in a couple of days?

I mindlessly walk my way to our apartment, which on a bus is only ten minutes, but thirty minutes when you're walking.

My feet ache by the time I make it to my apartment complex. The nude flats that I decided to wear today are now a mix of brown and grey. Dang it! These were my favorite pair of shoes.

Mom gave me these shoes right before...

I hold back tears as I open the door.

Cole is in our small living room, drowning himself in more beer. Where did he get more?

"Hello," I say, which jerks him out of his trance.

He looks at me with heavy eyes and I can smell the scent of alcohol wafting towards me.

"Where did you get more?" I ask politely, gesturing to the beer in his hands as well as the three empty bottles on the coffee table.

"I saved some from last night, " he says simply, his every word slurred. "Aren't you supposed to be at work?" he continues on.

My heart stops. He actually listens when I speak?

Cole is the scariest when he's drunk, and I was hoping to tell him when he was more sober.

"Um yeah, I-" He cuts me off. "You didn't get the job," he states.

I look at him, my heart hammering in my chest. "We won't be able to live here much longer," I whisper, fear crawling its way to my heart.

He simply shrugs, barely giving me a second glance. "I figured."

I look at him, shocked. How did he know?

"I'm not stupid," he says, noticing my shocked expression. "You're not very subtle when you try to hide the eviction notices."

I slump a little and make my way to my room. I peel out of my clothes and change into a sweatshirt that belonged to my dad. It is very large and nearly swallows me whole, meeting just over my knees. I also nab some shorts from my drawer and put that on too.

"I have a job for you," Cole says from the kitchen.

I perk up. He has a job for me?

Cole spends all of his days on our old, small couch. I'm sure there's a Cole-sized shape imprinted on the cushions.

"What do you mean?" I ask, stepping out of my room.

"There's a new strip joint downtown. They are looking for women to hire. I signed you up," he explains bluntly.

My heart stops. A stripper? At a strip joint? My mind races as I imagine myself filled with other gorgeous women as they dance effortlessly in front of people, money showering them like Niagara Falls.

And then there's me.

I'm as stiff as a board, having no flow or rhythm in any ounce of my body, and speaking of my body.. yeah, it's not great.

I've been living off of ramen noodles and Slim Jims for years now, so I basically look like a small, shrimpy girl, with a bare behind and small boobs. Not that I'm ashamed of them or anything, it's just that, I'm not the most good looking.

And Cole has made it clear he feels the same way.

"Uh, I don't think a stripper would be the best-"

"Listen bitch, we are about to get evicted, and if you won't fucking sleep with the landlord," he yells, silencing me, "this is our only option."

"No, I just, I don't think-" I stumble on my words, my voice coming out as whimpers as I notice Cole grabbing the belt laying on the floor.

"Please Cole, don't do this," I beg frantically, but too late. With quick strides he is right in front of me, his 5'11 height overpowering me completely.

He turns me around and whips me hard, the belt ricocheting off my back and hitting the wall next to us.

He continues on, striking my back, every hit paining my skin, even through the thick fabric of my dad's sweatshirt. My sobs fill the sounds of the belt contacting my skin, and I can feel my back heating up intensely.

He batters me more before switching his arms and resuming his beating.

He pounds even harder than before, my voice letting out a soft wail every time the belt hits me.

He beats me until I no longer feel anything. Until my tears have dried up. Until his arm goes tired and drops the belt. He saunters back to the living room and slumps in the couch once more.

"The only reason we are in this situation is because of you. All of this is because of you. Now you are going to go downtown and act like a fucking slut. Understood?"

Hearing those words come out of his mouth restarts my tears, every slice through my heart hurting painfully more than any belt he could slash on me.

I let out a quite sob and crawl to my room, locking the door and leaning my back against my door, allowing my tears to flow freely.

I cry until my heart hurts, until every inhale pains my chest. Until the numb of my back evaporates and I am left with excruciating pain.

I then cry about my parents. How everything would be so different if they were here. If I hadn't killed them.

Cole has been drilling that into my brain ever since the accident. How if I had never begged them to come watch my piano recital, they would never have gotten into a road rage. The man wouldn't have brought out a gun and shot both my parents. They never would've have died.

It's all my fault.

All my fault.

I feel my eyes slowly falling.

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"Get the fuck up. You're late!" Cole's voice booms outside my door, and I groggily wake up. As I soon as I move my back, my senses are filled with an aching pain.

I change back into the dress I was wearing, not wanting to damage more of the few dresses left in my closet.

I make my way to the bathroom and comb out of my waist length hair. I quickly brush out the knots and plait it into two Dutch braids. With a few strands hanging out, framing my small face, I go to the living room.

"I don't have any stripper clothes," I meekly say, still afraid he'll be angry and lash out. Again.

"That's alright. I know the owner. He'll provide some clothes and makeup," he tells me. Since when did he know people?

He's never left the house in 4 years.

I ignore the question laying on the tip of my tongue. Instead, I walk out, grabbing a small purse on the way and waiting for the bus.

I only have just enough money for one more bus ride before I'm completely broke.

I wait on the bus, and from the corner of my eye, I make out Agnes walking out of her apartment. My mood immeditialty perks up as she makes her way to the bus stop.

"Hello, sweet bean," she says kindly.

I give her a full smile, happy to see her face after the horrible day I've had. "Hi, Agnes," I say excitedly.

She returns my smile and sits down beside me, resting her head on my shoulders as usual. I inhale her sweet scent which gives me warm bubbles in my belly.

Speaking of my belly, I am absolutely starved. It's been several hours since the interview, the sun already setting while I dozed off on the floor of my room. I haven't eaten anything today besides the small cup of coffee from this morning.

As if on cue, my stomach lets out a deep rumble. My cheeks flush and I quickly apologize for my rude body.

"It's okay, sweet bean," she replies. She takes her head off my shoulder and brings out a small jar of snickerdoodle cookies from her purse.

My eyes light up at the sight but as much as my body protests, I decline. "Oh, no, Agnes, it's alright. I have to go to a job thing and I can't look bloated.'

I think back to all the women that will be there, with toned bodies and flat tummies. I'll be there looking like a deprived dog, with no muscle tone whatsoever.

Agnes ignores my objection and calmly stuffs the jar into my hands, saying "You must eat, dear." She speaks with a finality in her tone that I've never heard before in the four years I've known her.

So, in hopes of not upsetting her, I shovel a cookie into my mouth, savoring it's chewy texture and sweetness. God, it's so good.

I bite back a moan as I take another cookie out of the jar and stuff it into my mouth the minute I swallow. How does she make them so good?

They taste exactly like the cookies my mom used to bring home from the store. I would devour them in point five seconds, resulting in Cole giving me the cold shoulder for a week for not saving him any.

I should definitely ask for the recipe when I have more money. If I have more money.

The bus finally arrives, and when me an Agnes hug goodbye, I pay the bus driver and head to the back of the bus.

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"Hello, my name is Caden Wilson, I'm here for a job offering," I say to the man outside.

He looks at me up and down before gesturing me to another man. This man guides me to the side of the building and opened the door to reveal a small office.

"Oh, Caden, come in," a man inside says out loud. I walk in shyly and take in the office. The walls are a deep shade of crimson with cabinets everywhere and a small desk in the center.

"I'm Johnathan. I'm old pals with your brother, as you may know." I nod again, not sure what to say. Jonathan stands up, and brings out his hand to shake, which I do. He is just above my height, with a belly that protrudes over his jeans. He offers me a kind smile, which I reciprocate.

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Jonathan McNeil played by Kiefer Sutherland

45 years old

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"Okay, well, let's bring you backstage where some of the other girls will help you with your clothes and makeup.

He gets up from his chair and guides me through another door, his hand stopping behind my back. I let out a sharp hiss, but the music drowns out my wince.

Backstage is filled with vanities and girls and makeup and clothes. The smell is that of alcohol and chemicals which almost burns my nostril hairs. How am I supposed to work here.

"Genevieve, come here!"

A tall, lengthy girl strides towards us and I gulp. This girl is absolutely beautiful. She has tan skin, with high cheekbones, and waist length brown hair. Her tall figure elongates her legs, making her look even taller.

She looks just like a Victoria Secret model.

She smiles, showing off her teeth. "Thank you."

My eyes widen and I realize I just said that out loud.

"Caden, this is Gen, Gen Caden. She'll help you with your makeup and costume."

Jonathan pushes her to me before stalking away to his office.

I stand in front of her, awkwardly, as she assesses me.

"So, you never been to a strip joint?" she asks frankly.

My cheeks flush again. "Is it that obvious?"

"Well, you look like you're about to pass out," she replies. She's not wrong. "You have some real potential. Lemme get you ready and you'll be looking like one sexy slut."

I scrunch my nose. Yeah, that's not what I had in mind.

She leads me to a vanity. The second I'm seated, she works like a ninja, undoing my plaits and spraying hairspray everywhere. Her fingers scrunch up my scalp, ruffling them to give it more volume.

When my hair is complete, she moves on to my makeup. Her fingers race, applying foundation on that is a shade darker than my skin tone and brushing my eyelids with some eyeshadow.

She works so fast that it feels like it's been three seconds when she says, "Done."

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I walk on the runway wearing a feathered red leotard that exposed my midriff and just barely covers my lady bits. It's low V-neck allows some cleavage to show.

I can hardly tell if I'm walking the right way. When I peered over the other girls who were onstage, they bounced with the music, their hips meeting every beat of the sound.

I tried to recreate that but... Yeah, it didn't work out too good.

My right foot accidently hit the back of my left, resulting in me almost tumbling off the stage, but luckily, I recovered.

But then, the haunting pole comes into my view and I stop. My eyes bulge, unsure of how to do this. How do you pole dance??

I stand there, stiff as a board before I realize everyone's watching me. I quickly jump onto the pole and slide down as seductively as I can but fail miserably. My thighs catch on the pole, making my descent choppy and awkward.

I quickly pull away from the pole and walk out, my face heating up as I imagine what I just did.

Oh my gosh, that was humiliating! I can feel myself hyperventilating as I pace backstage, recalling all the looks of people staring at me.

Johnathan is going to fire me and Cole is going to beat me for getting fired and we're going to live on the streets begging for money. Tears begin to fill my eyes and I don't stop them as I recall Cole's belt hitting my skin.

I continue to cry until arms wrap around me. I look up to see Jonathan.

"Hey darling, let's get you home."

I nod, glad to have someone to comfort me.

He opens the back door to the side of the building, and once we're outside, he pushes me to the wall. Wait, what?

My back bursts into pain and I let out an agonizing moan.

"You like that?" he says, eyeing me with greedy hunger. Gone was the man who give me a kind smile an hour ago, replaced instead with a vicious monster ready to devour me. Oh no.

I let out a yelp. "Please don't hurt me," I beg as he begins to walk toward me, his hand clutching his crotch.

"Oh darling, I'm going to do more than that. I'm going to rearrange your guts in that pretty little body of yours."

My body is frozen with fear as he cages me in with his hands, leaving me trapped.

I let out a yelp as he brings his mouth to my neck, his rough tongue making me squirm under him.

Suddenly, I hear footsteps. Three more men enter the alley. Oh no. More people.

No, please, don't hurt me. Please, anyone up there, stop these men. Anyone!

"No, please don't hurt me. I don't have any money," I plead to the them. I can't see through the darkness, but I can sense fury from the tallest of the trio.

He balls his fists and makes his way behind Jonathan, the two other men by his side.

"I don't need your money, sweetheart. Everything I want is right in front of me," Jonathan continues, unaware of the three new guests.

What is he going to do? Is he waiting until Jonathan is finished to have his turn? Tears run down my cheeks at the thought.

Or are they going to help me?

The man in the center lets our a huff, and Jonathan finally parts his lips away from me and turns around.

I don't see his reaction, but I do see the man's. A smirk stretches across his lips before he swings on Jonathan, his fists landing right on his nose.

Jonathon falls, and I let out a small cry as I see blood gushing out of his face. Oh my gosh. what did I just witness?

Suddenly, I fall to the ground, my knees hitting the rough road and I sob my eyes out.

I think back to his hands on my waist, his lips meeting my skin, his tongue spreading from my neck to my breast.

I think of Cole. How he will react when he finds out that I don't have a job anymore. How he will punish me for ruining the last chance we had to pay rent.

I let it all out on the floor, in front of three strangers who might just be serial killers looking at their next victim.

I hardly feel a pair of strong arms scooping me up in their arms. My head rests on their chest as they carry me out of the alley and into a car.

The man gently straps me into the car, his face touching mine as he buckles in the seatbelt and ensures that I am safe.

I inhale the scent of the car, something I've never smelled in years and savor it.

He gestures to someone outside but I don't get to see who it is as I feel my eyelids slowly closing on me. My body finally gives in to the soothing darkness that awaits me.

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