I was once the most beautiful girl in our town- I had the finest skin every youth can ever have. I had the most glorious hair any woman would love to possess, had the most elegant eyes any man cannot resist to stare at. I had the best features, I had the best family, and most of all, I had the purest of heart that is incapable of inflicting harm to others.

I crouch into my knees, leaning my back on the side of the bed. The heavy rainfall, the lightning, and thunder- everything reminds me of that night. My tears run down again- I just can't help it, and it won’t stop flowing. It feels like I'm about to vomit from this melancholic thought. Whenever the sun is covered by dark clouds, my body reacts to it. Uninvited thoughts rush into me, unwanted memories keep coming back.

"Haven't I suffered enough?" I ask God every night. Then, another part of me will ask Him again,

"What did I do in the first place? What did I do that brought me into this shitty life?". It's always like this at night. It's like this whenever it rains. What can I do? The heavy rains remind me of that horrible past.

I glance at my mobile phone, "Oh shit," I blurt out after checking the time, "I'll be late."

So I sober up and prepare for another night duty. Hell yeah, I'm a working girl who works her ass up on a graveyard shift. That's my kind of job.

It's 10 o’clock when I last check the time. I close my unit and head downstairs. My unit is on the 5th floor, but since the elevator's broken, I have no choice but to use the stairs. At the front desk on the first floor, we tenants have to return our keys to the caretaker just like a hotel policy, you know.

I walk my way out, same old same old.

The street is always alive and well even at this hour. Colorful lights hang in front of every brothel while girls wearing dazzling clothes are waiting around the corner. I hate to admit it but most people in this small town think of us as bad luck. This place is called the Dark Area because people who are lawless, jobless, and thieves reside here, so am I.

I keep walking towards my favorite spot. This is where I usually go right before I go to work. Since I have no time to eat dinner, I always buy two packs of cigars from a local street vendor here. I lit my first stick and began to smoke.

"You're early tonight. Are you going to work now?", the old vendor curiously asks. I nod a yes.

A stick is like my breath. It is essential for my existence. Can I live without it? Maybe, maybe not. It's my source of energy and my appetizer. I am a chain smoker, and I love being one.

I'm about to finish my stick when someone called me loudly, "Lily!!!", then I realize it is my best friend Sandy rushing towards me.

"What's the fuss all about, Sandy?" I ask as I drop and step on the cigarette.

"The Boss needs you, right now. As in, right now!", Sandy exclaims while catching her breath.

“Huh? Did he say why he’s in a hurry to see me?”, I ask her, but replies she has no idea why. So, I agree and go to our work together. I start wondering why The Boss is in a rush, and even sends someone to fetch me because I usually start working at 12 midnight. Our workplace is hard to find and you won't know where it is unless you're from our town. It’s well hidden for safety purposes, as it is an underground kind of business.

After walking for about 15 minutes, we arrive at the hidden block where our workplace is- here we are, in front of a bungalow house. It is simple, with red brick walls, one huge window, and a wooden door. It looks like a typical residential house, you won’t think that people like me actually work here.

Sandra walks in front of the door and knocks three times and says her secret password, which is unique for every individual in the organization. The door opens, and she goes in. As the door closes, I repeat the scenario. Only one person is allowed to enter the door at once, the resident guard, Joe, will verify if the person outside is indeed a member of the organization using passwords. "What do you want?" he whispers using the speaker installed at the door. "Lily needs Bourbon", I answer, and this is my secret password. Joe peeps on the hole, verifies me, and then lets me in.

As I enter the house, Joe and his partner Rod perform a body check for security purposes. They work here as guards or goon bouncers, to be exact. They check every employee and their belongings, and that includes us. They check every part of us, touching our bodies with their filthy lustful hands.

What can I do? It's part of their job, and I won't make a fuss over this little thing, because my job here is far worse than that.

Once assured that you have no weapons or anything that could make trouble, you can then pass. If there is a difference between a simple house and this house, it's the basement. There's a bedroom on the right side corner and inside, you'll find a huge double door that looks like a closet.

As normal looking as it can be, this closet-like thing is deceiving, and you better watch out. It isn't an ordinary closet, but an entrance to hell.

Indeed, this is an entrance to hell, I said to myself as I approach it. Behind this cabinet-looking entrance is a place where people with no conscience, no soul, and no heart- people like me, gather. I stare at the door for a while and come to my senses as I must not waste time, or my boss will punish all of us. Here, one’s mistake is everyone’s fault.

As you open the entrance door to hell as I call it, night lights will illuminate your eyes. Loud music will burst in your ears. Lustful eyes will tear your clothes. Sexual desires will make your body sweat. Yes, this is where I work, this is where I belong, or so I say. A nightclub? I can't say this is just a simple nightclub, we offer services a simple nightclub or strip club can't give. It's like a nightclub and a motel with special, lustful human services. It’s all in one- and that's just the way it is.

And I'm the best asset of this business. I am the favorite pet of our boss, and I am the highest grosser of this fucking place - literally a fucking place.

We have what we called "The Lobby", where you can socialize with everyone in the house. It's like a wide living room with a stage and a counter. You can do whatever you want here. You can have sex with someone on the floor, or even on the couch. You can touch every people in this room as long as you get his/her permission. A person who is dying to have sex but can't afford to pay an "agent"

prostitute

goes here. Most of the time, this is where it happens, the thing called "Anonymous Sex". Do you know what Anonymous Sex is? Just to answer your curiosity, let me give you a simple explanation. It's like having sex with someone whom you just met for the first time in the living room. It's like having sex with someone without personal or emotional attachment. Got it? Well in our place, it's a customer-to-customer type of sexual relationship, without shelling out bucks, they can still have sex.

After you pass by The Lobby, we have the "Private Rooms". It is where we offer human services. People who can pay an "agent" for a night go here, mostly, they are rich businessmen. Most businessmen don't want to be involved in public scandals that can ruin their reputation, so they prefer to avail a private session with their favorite agent in the Private Rooms. We also have a conference room where Boss's meetings and business transactions are held.

And last but not the least is the "Boss's Room”, which looks like an elegant hotel suite, with glamorous chandeliers, wooden tiled floors, European inspired-wallpaper, cedarwood long table, comfortable and expensive furniture, California king bed, and stolen artworks in display. The room is heavily soundproofed, and a large thing will catch your attention upon entering the room. Behind Boss’s office desk which is made from an expensive tempered glass material, is my nude portrait- where I am captured kneeling, looking up, my hands placed on the side of thighs, baring my nakedness. This is where he fucks all his female employees. This is where Lucifer disguised as a man resides.

As I've told you earlier, I'm his favorite. It’s obvious with the way my portrait hangs in his room. So if you don't find me at home or at The Lobby, you will probably find me here with this old man. Well, that is the end of our tour, I finally reach the end of the basement, where the Boss’s Room is located. Sandra drops by The Lobby waiting for her clients. So here I am standing on my own, I let out a sigh then knock.

The heavy door opens automatically, and I go in without hesitation.