I took a leave from high school, where I had been an honor roll student since I was five. and tried to make a living with my music, to literally sing ...or my supper. I didn't make a lot of money, just enough to pay some bills, pay the rent, and buy my own food. Maybe you saw me then. I stood two inches under five feet, with super curly red hair and really prominent breasts for a young woman my size. My dad told me once to never back down to anyone who wasn't holding a gun to my face, and I never. This time he got the dirt. He cruised up slowly as I walked down Drouillard, swinging my hips in a lazy high heel scr****g way. I dressed for the part, torn white t shirt with the appropriate stains, slinged up in a halter barely containing my slightly sagging tits. Blue denim skirt, well-worn so my ass cheeks peeked through the frays. Fleshy legs flexed with muscle all the way down to the perfectly shiny six inch black pumps I chose for tonight’s rendezvous. From a distance I looked I was. More

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