"CRY" by Sarah Ryniker

STORY LAST UPDATED ON 20/12/2002

AUTHOR'S NOTE

This story has a high sexual content.

Cry Prologue Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Epilogue

CHAPTER THREE: A NEW LIFE

I was nervous as I went through the many costumes. Most were very skimpy. But I couldn't help wanting to smack myself at the thought. They were skimpy, yes, but they weren't going to be on for long anyway.
    I found a rather sexy, bright red corset-like top that had black feathers lining it. The bottom half was a pair of black thin underwear with two giant red feathers on either side of the thin fabric that held them on your hips. I dressed in it quickly and when I looked at myself in the mirror, I had a sense of sexiness about me that gave me a strange feeling of confidence. I actually looked very erotic. And when I slipped the matching black and red-feathered mask on, I gained even more confidence. I felt like a different person completely. And somewhere inside of me, I knew that I could do it.
    Then I sat down on the couch and began to think of a good name. I kept glancing at the mirror directly across from me, trying to come up with a good name. For the life of me, I couldn't think of a single thing. I began to twist at my hair, trying to find a sexy way of wearing, stalling for more time to think of a name. But as I did this, I thought about the way someone would describe me. I had raven black hair. And so became my name, The Raven.
    I went to go find out where to sing in my stage name, and unfortunately ran into Laura. She just happened to be the one taking down names. When she came up to me, she raised her eyebrows in disgust. I knew I hadn't put it on wrong, and I felt confident enough to know that it was green jealousy shining in her grey eyes. "Well, what name did you choose?" She placed the pen to the paper on the clipboard, her eyes glancing up at me, impatiently.
    "The Raven," I told her, pulling my shoulders back in a confident sweep.
    Her lips curved once more into her smile of sarcastic amusement. "You can't be serious," she said, shaking her head.
    I simply nodded, and she shrugged her shoulders and jotted down the name. She looked back up at me before she turned to leave. She shook her head and muttered "whatever" before leaving me there.
    As contestants, we didn't get to choose our own music. So when they announced me, and the music started, I was more nervous. I wasn't sure if I could dance to this music. And how long would I be on stage? The music was so slow! Yet I stepped carefully up onto the stage.
    I slid one of my long legs through the glittering tinsel curtain, and I heard men whistle. I slowly slid the rest of my body out and something inside of me clicked. I could do it. I seemed to be made to be on stage. It didn't seem to matter that men were viewing me as a sex object. They could view all they wanted. But knowing I had a certain power over them did something to me, and the childish immaturity I had held so tightly to for so long slipped away and disappeared forever.
    When I was finished and I stepped off the stage, I sat back to watch, from an angled point, the other girls competing. My heart thumped into my chest. I hoped and prayed I did as well as I felt I had. I needed this job so incredibly badly. Yet none of the others seemed to falter, either. They acted as if they had been doing this their whole lives and weren't new to it like me.
    I knew that the winner won five hundred dollars and a job. And I needed both. It only made me more on edge. I didn't know what to do. I didn't think I could make it through all seven of the other girls competing. And when it was finished, I was almost one hundred percent positive that I would die waiting to hear the winner announced.
    They had four winners, which were third place, second place, first place and the grand prizewinner. I listened as they called out the third place girl, the second place girl and then the first place girl. I crossed my fingers as Landon announced, with a mocking drum roll, the grand prizewinner. I almost turned and walked out before I realised that he had called my name.
    When I stepped back on stage, still dressed in costume, the men cheered and hollered. I felt an odd sensation of power, once again. I had thought that the second time around, without dancing, I would feel uncomfortable. Yet I felt a certain sense of belonging that I never felt before. And it almost scared me. Almost.
    When I got back into the dressing room, I was congratulated by all of the girls. All, that is, except for Laura. Her eyes held a glint of disgust and annoyance in them. What her hatred for me was for, I didn't understand. But I was too excited and relieved to care. I ignored her, and attempted to make friends with the other girls that I would be working with.
    Francine and Missy were the friendliest to me. Though the other girls weren't rude, they were most eager to find out more about me. I would find out that the reason for this was because they were the two youngest and were thrilled to have another "youngin" join them.
    "You were absolutely fantastic tonight, Cry. I haven't seen anybody dance that great since Francine started working here six months ago!" Missy exclaimed. I would soon find out that Missy tended to make everything sound more exciting than it was. She made life less boring to be around, according to Francine, who was her best friend. Missy had been working at the strip club for a year and had got Francine, who had been her friend since preschool, a job there.
    Francine shook her head. "I'm not that good," she muttered. Then she looked to me with a brilliant smile on her tiny face. "You, on the other hand, were fabulous."
    "Thanks," I said, blushing. Dancing had never been something I had thought about. But then again, I had been so lost in my childish world that I hadn't bothered to think of a job or career. "Um, you guys, I was just wondering, what does this job require? Is dancing all that we do?"
    Francine shook her head. "No, we are waitresses, too. Landon tries to keep us from getting bored. He's had a lot of girls quit on him because they got bored working here. So he started letting us wait on people about two months ago."
    "That's doesn't sound too bad," I thought out loud.
    Both girls shrugged. "It really isn't. The only thing is, the men tend to grope you more. Watch for it. Make sure some of them really do have bad intentions before calling for Landon or telling him. He is rather protective of his girls," Francine warned, her eyes dark.
    I raised my eyebrows. "What do you mean?"
    "The police have been out here several times to warn Landon to keep his hands off his customers," Missy said, her eyes wide.
    "Needless to say, he is quick with his hands." Francine didn't seem to like Landon very much. She seemed to distrust him. "Anyway, the night is coming to an end. You need a ride home, Cry?"
    "Sure, I'd hate to walk when it is still so cold out there." I was more than willing to get a ride home from her. She intrigued me.
    When we got into the car, both of us were silent for a little while. I waited for her to start up some form of conversation, but I was never very patient. It was one of my many immature traits. "You don't seem to like Landon very much," I commented as we pulled out of the parking lot.
    She was quiet for a second, and then went into a small explanation. "I told you earlier that he is quick with his hands and to watch out for him. Well, he is quick with his hands in more ways than just violence."
    "What do you mean?" I knew I sounded naïve and stupid, but she shot me a look of disbelief and then a look of sympathy.
    "You don't exactly get out much, do you? You really have no idea what I am talking about, huh?" I looked at her, wide eyed and shook my head back and forth slowly. "He tends to use all of the girls, especially the new ones, for his own male pleasure." I knew she was trying to put it in a nice way.
    It only took a second for me to realise what she was saying. "He uses the girls for sex?" I asked in disbelief. "But he seemed so friendly!"
    She laughed a bitter laugh. "They all do, sweetie. They all do." It was the last thing she said before dropping me off. The only other conversation between us was my giving her directions to my home.
    I got out of the car and thanked her. She smiled, yet I could tell she was lost somewhere in her sea of sad memories. Part of me wanted to stay in the car with her and be a friend. Yet I didn't know how to do just that. So I gave her the space she seemed to need at the moment, and left her there.
    When I got into the house, Mother was still sleeping. Or so I had assumed. But when I looked to where I had pinned my note, it was gone. It was lying on the small round, wooden thing we used for a dining table. She had evidently looked at it and then fallen back to sleep.
    I sat beside her and called to her. "Mother, I am home. And I have a surprise for you."
    She looked up at me, her eyes groggy and confused-looking. When she saw me, a look of relief filled her face. It still amazed me that I had thought that she had hated me all of these years, when in reality she had been the one who loved me so much.
    "A surprise? What are you talking about? Did you get a job? I wish you hadn't gone off into that cold and into the dark without somebody with you, Cry. You could have been hurt in this neighbourhood." She was waking up now and everything was hitting her.
    "Mother, I did get a job, but don't worry about what it is. I already started working and I made five hundred dollars! Isn't that great?" I cried out with added excitement in my voice. I wanted so much for her to be happy.
    "Five hundred? Oh, Cry! That is more than we get on your cheques!" She grabbed the money that I had fanned out in front of her and began to count it. "Oh, how did you do this?"
    "Talent, Mother. Just talent." I truly didn't want her to know what I was doing.
    She shook her head, not believing what her eyes and ears were telling her. "I don't care how you did it. Oh, Cry, this is great!"
    I was relieved that she didn't ask about it. The next day we got groceries with part of the money and then put the rest into savings. We would get ourselves out of here. I knew that it wouldn't take long. I would work extra hard to make sure of that.
    Back at the club, the girls got paid twelve dollars an hour plus tips from waitressing and dancing. I knew I was Landon's most eager employee. I wanted to do my best to earn the most money possible. He seemed highly impressed by me and liked to tell me just that.
    When I got my first cheque, he called me into his back office to give it to me personally. "Cry, you are a fabulous dancer and the hardest working person I have ever personally known in my life. You definitely have many traits to admire." He smiled his dashing, neon white-toothed smile.
    "Thank you, Landon. I just want to do my best." He was making me nervous. After what Francine had told me, his every "friendly" touch made me jump. Yet I didn't want to lose the job that could get my mother and myself out of poverty, so I went with it.
    "I'm glad that you feel that way," he said in a low, sexy voice. I swallowed and bit my lower lip. Suddenly he shook his head and turned his friendly smile back on. "Anyway, here is your cheque. You did very well." With that, I was dismissed.
    I didn't pause in the room to look at the cheque. I left quickly and ran right into Francine when I escaped the heat that he was putting off in the room. "What was that all about?" she asked, her eyes holding severe suspicion.
    "Don't worry, Francine. Nothing happened. He gave me my cheque and complimented my work." I had started to become friendlier with her over the two weeks that had passed.
    "You promise that he didn't touch you?" I knew already that she was protective of those she loved.
    "I swear to you that he didn't touch me. Now let's go home!" I threaded my arm through hers and she, reluctantly, let go of the subject at that point.
    She brooded all the way to my apartment complex. "You sure nothing happened?" she quizzed again.
    I nodded. "If anything had happened, I promise, I would have told you. If anything ever happens I promise I will tell you."
    She smiled, finally letting go of it. "Aren't you going to take a peek at that cheque?"
    I laughed. "I'm too nervous. What if it really isn't that good?"
    "It has to be quite a bit, Cry. You worked a full forty hours the past week! Plus tips!" I knew she was right, and I opened the cheque.
    The cheque was for eight hundred and thirty dollars. And though it wasn't much to many people, it was as if I had hit the lottery.
    "Wow, you did great," Francine commented, looking over my shoulder. "Three hundred and fifty in tips. The men really like you!"
    "You have no idea how wonderful this is, Francine," I said in just above a whisper. I knew that this would bring a smile to my mother's face.
    She looked out the car window to the apartments in front of us. "I think I have an idea." She smiled. "Go in there and show your mother."
    "How did you-?"
    She cut me off. "You say stuff without thinking every now and then, Cry. I know that your situation is a sad one. I can tell you are definitely not used to living in this, and neither is your very depressed mother. Now go in there and bring a smile to her face."
    I hugged her and got out of the car. I was so ecstatic to show her the cheque. Little did I know that soon this money would come at a price of its own. And it was a price that I had to be willing to pay. Or else.

Cry Prologue Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Epilogue

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