Sinners Like Me

It was the beginning of summer, June 21st. I was working the streets like always, attracting rich men in my way too tight way too short dress. My make-up was smeared from last night. If you haven't guessed already, I'm a prostitute, a slut, a whore. Whatever you want to call me. I didn't want to become what I am now, but I had no choice. Until a mysterious figure stepped into my life and helped me heal.
But I have sins that cannot be forgiven, not even by God Himself.
My name is Echo Willie Wilson and this is what happened to me.


2. The Dark Figure

It was the day after the four hours with Luke. It was daytime, around 11:00. I was sitting at home, counting last night's earnings. Luke paid four hundred. That's a sixty dollar tip. Highest this week. Besides Luke, I had two other customers. One that paid two fifty, no tip, and one that paid five hundred for only two hours. But he was a regular for me, so that helped. 

My apartment was small. It was one roomed, not counting the bathroom. My single bed was messy and the kitchen looked like a bomb had gone off. But I only have about one meal a day, and that's lunch. Usually I'm working before seven at night and in someone Else's bed, or a motel bed, until nine in the morning.  

I sighed and got up. I was sore and groggy from the night and desperately needed a shower. I made my way to the small bathroom, stripping off my tight red dress. After closing the door, I stood in front of my mirror and examined my features. 

I had deep blue eyes, and pale skin. My lips are a pink color, but they still had smudges of my dark red lipstick on them. My dirty blonde hair was in a messy bun on top of my head. I started to work on getting it out when I heard a knock on my door. I sighed and grabbed my black bathrobe. 

When I got to the door and looked into the peep-hole, I saw it was the building manager. I growled and undid the latch on the door. When i opened the door, the stench of beer and smoke hit me like a bat.  

"Hello Mr. Poker-face. How much did you win? I mean lose?" I asked him. 

His real name is Mr. Pimle. He's a short, fat-bellied man in his late fifties. He wears cheap shirts and jean shorts. In short, he is the Rumpelstiltskin of the modern world. 

"Ah, Echo. You are two weeks late on your payment. That means you have two hours to clear out your apartment. This was your third strike. Anything left behind will be taken. Have a nice life. And, don't come back." he smiled his grimy smile and left. 

"Mother fucker." I mumbled. I slammed shut the door and leaned up against it. "Shit shit shit shit!" I yelled, sliding down the door. Hot, angry tears welled up in my eyes and spilled down my face. 

Where am I going to go? I thought. What's going to happen to me?

In an hour and a half, I was out the door. I didn't have much, so all I carried out was a suitcase and a duffel bag stuffed with stuff from when I was little. 

It was about twelve thirty, and I was out on a bad street. Even though I deal with creeps every night, this was different. I was in shorts and a t-shirt. Not a skimpy dress and high heels. Just sneakers and secrets. 

I decided to take the alley way, stay off the streets. Men and women hung out there. These were not whores but party goers. They drank all night, having sex and got wasted.  

As I passed by a couple of guys, they started to whistle. 

"Hey babe. Looking nice there. How much for an hour? And each one of us gets a turn at you. How much would that be?" he asked, walking toward me. He reeked of cheap cologne and really cheap beer. 

"No thanks. You are defiantly not my type. And you couldn't afford me anyway." I tried to get away but he grabbed my arm, causing me to drop my suitcase.  

"Now don't think you're getting away from me that easily, slut. You will fuck me and my friends. Come with me whore." he was whispering in my ear. His breath reeked of who knows what. 

Just when I thought my wrist was gonna break he was twisting it so hard, a deep voice came out of nowhere. 

"Let her go, mate. She's not yours. She's mine." I have not ever in my life heard that voice, so as the guys who was hurting me let go, I turned to see a dark figure. He had his head down so I couldn't see his face. 

"Fine. You can have her. We'll just go find someone better." They left and I turned to the figure. 

"Who the hell are you?"

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