Dark strands of pitch hung limply against her face, oily tendrils clinging to her brow. Hollowed cheeks, gaunt frame spoke of iron control and wild he...plessness, the faint taste of bile lingered at the back of her throat. Beauty was fickle, the slender frame now skeletal, ravaged by years of starvation and her skin sagged on her dejectedly, the lines that burrowed into her brow premature. Rumpled clothing, the kind that one bought in the attempt to feign wealth, in cut that nearly draped. She knew the bikers would decide what they wanted for her and she would accept it. She wasn’t a slut in her eyes, not yet, but she didn’t want to show fear. She knew they would feed on that, just like wild animals, as her dad had taught her. She might be a veritable slut in just a couple short hours if this ‘boss' guy decided it was time to turn her out. “Well fuck me, this is Scooters old lady? She’s Queen? Pretty.” He wasn't a particularly scary looking man, like some of them, but he. Just recently I have noticed how much you touch him when you are talking to him and how you look at him from time to time. I think he is having a greater effect on you than just improving your grades and he is coming to mean more to you than you are prepared to let on. So let me ask you this, what are you going to give him for Christmas?"It suddenly dawned on me that I had not even considered this. I had been so taken up with how he made me feel and the discoveries I was making about my. " I saw you on the ship, but I didn't know who you were. You seemed to stay out of the light, somehow." So did you." He smiled."What are you doing up here, far from the madding crowd?" I saw you start up the hill, and after a while I thought I'd like to see where you went. I followed you. So the real question is, what are YOU doing here?" Sleeping, I guess," I said."That's not what I meant." Well, if you really want to know, I left because I felt sorry for myself. All those cute babes like Kim.