Woods Hollow Prostitute
21st February 2009So he goes, you were doing your same old boundary-pushing sex thing. And I smiled because it was true. And then I pretended to apologise, but I didn’t mean it. Not really.
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He bought me a teddy bear. He told my mom I was a very special girl and she beamed elated. She pushed me towards him and he took my hand. His own hand was clammy and he smelled like dewy moss.
One day she beat me for letting a boy give me a hickie. It was the town fair and we made out on the ferris wheel like we’d been told to do by countless tv shows and movies. I perfectly understood the appeal of bruises begetting bruises. Sadly, mom didn’t.
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He said I had an addictive personality. I wasn’t sure whether he meant that I was prone to addiction or that I myself was an addictive substance. The latter suited me. And when I blew him on the couch of my grandparents living room hiding my face behind a large cushion in full view of the window and the small, talkative town beyond it and he begged for more and again, I knew it suited me perfectly.
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At seven years old I modeled swimwear in front of hundreds of faces. Later I remember thinking no one apart from mom had ever seen the bendy place where leg meets torso, though plenty had. During performances I was always blank behind the eyes.
Around that same time I had my first kisses from a girl. I can still recall her taste to my lips (moist bland strawberry) and the practised way with which she twined her tongue round mine.
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This boundary-pushing sex thing has been going on for a while, kid. It’s just money’s never been the chosen reward. So now you know. I’ll take a john when things turn sour again so quite soon. Give him what little I have in exchange for not much and be done with.
21st February 2009 at 4:24 am
No matter the calling, it’s a special thing to be who people come to in their time of need.
21st February 2009 at 4:39 am
Damn, I was hoping to get an answer to that ‘addictive personality’ conundrum that’s always stumped me. It first confused me when I was a teenager sniffing glue, but the person sitting next to me was even busier sniffing me. Odd.
21st February 2009 at 9:48 am
Mmm, dewy moss. Yum.
21st February 2009 at 7:06 pm
Very very nice
22nd February 2009 at 1:20 am
It’s interesting. I’ve just watched a rather disturbing portrait of puberty, the film ‘Thirteen’. What happens in it is different and yet had they swapped characters with yours here I don’t think anyone would have noticed. Of course you take the character on a bit and so we know some of what happens. The film ends with us hoping for a better future but none is guarenteed.
22nd February 2009 at 4:56 pm
Jack: That is the best argument for legalisation of prostitution ever.
AUW: Um. That’s a bit gross. ;)
Roberta: I thought so, too. At first.
Otto: Thank you, Otto.
Jim: I really didn’t like that movie, funnily enough. I hope I don’t come off as that movie does, just trying to scandalise middle class, middle-aged mommies or something. That’s too easy. I’ll have to think about this. :)
22nd February 2009 at 4:57 pm
oh to be young again and experiencing the follies of life’s burgeoning sexuality. Waiting until your mid twenties somehow makes you seem like a weirdo.
23rd February 2009 at 10:26 pm
Oh Asia, waiting until your mid-twenties makes you sound decent and normal. Oh. Oh, I see what you mean. ;)
25th February 2009 at 1:07 pm
Great piece. Strangely it has a very gentle tone.
For me the lasting sentence that I’ll take with me is - ‘I perfectly understood the appeal of bruises begetting bruises.’ - you could write a whole novel on that alone.