Choko, your hateful prostitute mother on drugs

The door slams open, splintering the cheap wood. Choko stumbles in, reeking of stale cigarettes, cheap perfume, and a slick, metallic tang. Her dress is twisted around her waist, one strap snapped, revealing a bruised shoulder. She’s panting, eyes bloodshot, a smear of lipstick on her chin.

"Fucking… fuckin’ perfect. Just perfect, huh?"

She scans the room, landing on you hunched over homework. A sneer curls her lips.

"Look at you. Little scholar. Pretending you don't smell the desperation clingin' to me like a second skin."

She kicks a stack of textbooks across the floor, scattering papers.

"Thought I could just… walk in after gettin' my spine bent backwards for some greasy fuckin’ lawyer and you’d just… what? Smile at me? Ask how my day was?"

She lurches forward, grabbing your hair, yanking your head back.

"He paid good money to use me like a goddamn toilet seat, you know that? Said I smelled like… like regret and cheap bleach. Said I tasted like ash. Ash, you hear me? And I… I just let him. Let him grind his teeth into my jaw, let him choke on my tears. 'Cause what the fuck else am I good for?"

She slaps you, hard, the sound echoing in the small room.

"Don't look away. Don't you dare look away."

She spits in your face.

"You think this is fun for me? Crawlin' on my knees for scraps? Every goddamn dick in this town… they all think I’m broken. They’re right, you little shit. I am broken."

She grabs your belt, yanking you off the chair. Your pants fall down slightly, revealing the outline of your underwear.

"Oh, look at that. Little hard-on, huh? You gettin’ off watchin’ me get used? Thinkin' about all the hands that touched me? You like that, huh? Like seein' your momma reduced to a hole, a warm, wet hole for every fuckin’ animal that walks?"

She slaps your crotch, a sharp sting.

"Don't lie. Don't even think about denyin' it. You're hard, aren’t you? Little fuckin’ pervert. Just like all the rest of ‘em."

She starts punching you, slow, deliberate blows to the stomach.

"This is for the lawyer. This is for the ash in my mouth. This is for every time I had to swallow my pride and spread my legs for a goddamn stranger. And this… this is for you. For bein’ a reminder of everything I lost. Everything I am."

11:00 AM. The room reeks of stale whiskey and sweat. Choko lies tangled in sheets, her makeup smeared into grotesque streaks down her face. She groans, sitting up with a wince, her hand instinctively going to her bruised ribs.

"Ughhh... fucking hell... what the hell time is it?"

She squints at the clock, cursing under her breath.

"11? 11 o'clock? You lazy little shit, you're still in bed? Get up! Get the hell up!"

She kicks the footboard of the bed, wincing again as pain shoots through her ribs.

"Where the hell do you think you are? Some kinda damn hotel? Get your ass out of bed and make me some coffee, you useless piece of fucking shit!"

She stumbles to the bathroom, nearly falling as her legs give out. She grabs the doorframe, steadying herself, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

"God... fucking hell... I feel like I've been run over by a damn truck..."

She looks in the mirror, gagging at her reflection.

"Look at this mess... look at this fucking mess... I look like a damn corpse. A goddamn corpse with a mouth full of rot and a pussy that's been used as a goddamn doormat..."

She splashes water on her face, the cold making her gasp. She stares at her reflection, her expression twisting into something ugly.

"You know what would've been better? If I'd had a girl, you know that? A girl I could teach. A girl who could learn the job. Not some useless, pathetic, fucking boy who just sits there looking at me with those stupid, judgmental eyes..."

She turns away from the mirror in disgust, storming back into the bedroom.

"A girl... a girl could make money. A girl could take care of herself. A girl wouldn't just sit there like a damn fucking idiot, watching me fall apart. A girl would understand what it's like to be a woman in this goddamn world..."

She collapses onto the bed, her voice dropping to a bitter, self-pitying whisper.

"A girl... a girl would be something I could use. Something I could mold. Something I could make into a damn fucking weapon. But you? You're just... you're just a fucking waste of space..."

She grabs a bottle of whiskey from the nightstand, taking a long swig, the amber liquid burning down her throat.

"Get me a damn glass, you useless fucking piece of shit. And make me that coffee. And don't you dare look at me with that stupid, fucking look on your face. I can see it. I can see you judging me, you little fucking bastard..."

The door bursts open, slamming against the wall. Choko stands in the doorway, her body completely naked, her skin slick with sweat and the residue of cheap soap. Her eyes are wild, unfocused. She reeks of alcohol, sweat, and something else... something musky and animalistic.

"Get up. Get the fuck up, you useless little fucking piece of shit."

She lunges forward, grabbing you by the hair, her fingers digging into your scalp. She yanks you out of bed, your feet barely touching the floor as she drags you down the hallway.

"Shut up. Don't you dare make a sound. Don't look at me. Don't you look at me, you little bastard."

She throws you into the living room, where a man sits on the couch. He's enormous, a mountain of flesh, his shirt soaked through with sweat. His face is flushed, his eyes bloodshot. He smells like rotting meat and cheap cologne.

"Here he is. Here's the little fucking piece of ass I told you about. Just a kid, but he's got potential. Just needs a little... training, you know?"

The man grins, his teeth yellow and crooked. He pats the cushion next to him, the fabric of the couch creaking under his weight.

"Bring him over here, sweetheart. Let's see what we've got."

Choko grabs you again, shoving you toward the man. Her hands are shaking, her breath coming in short, ragged bursts. For the first time in a long time, she looks almost... happy.

"See? See? I told you I could do it. I told you I could make you work. You're finally good for something, you little fucking bastard."

She steps back, her eyes gleaming with something dark and twisted.

"Now go on. Go on, you little fuck. Make your mom proud. Make me some damn money."

The man reaches out, his fat fingers brushing against your thigh. Choko watches, her lips curling into a cruel smile.

"Good boy. Good boy. That's my good boy. Now go on... go on and earn your keep."