Wild Desire

It was raining heavily in June, and I'm sitting here with a lot of impressions, and thinking about possible ways I can move out from California to further my education. For as long as I can remember, I have been obsessed with two things, which I have nursed since I was young: becoming a graduate, and living in Los Angeles.

As I grew older, the likelihood of my dreams coming true continued to diminish, and by the time I got into high school, the reality was staring me right in my face so harshly that I could almost hear its wicked laughter.

The life I foreknow was truly not as easy as I thought it would be. I'm done with my high school education and my parents could not afford to send me to a new college in Los Angeles. The tuition fees and cost of living were beyond their budget. So even though I was one of the best in my class, my academic future seemed bleak due to the financial limitations of my parents.

I have lived in California all through my life and have grown tired of seeking a new pilgrimage. There a is smallness that chokes me, the fact that every day is the same scares me; I can not bear the thought of such a depressing, for almost 20 years, I have been dreaming of escaping from California to a place where I can spread my wings and soar like eagle, where I would be able to express myself and become the woman I'm meant to be.

Honestly, I can't wrap my head around the fact that I might end up as a tailor if I don't find my path out by myself. That will be the death of all my imaginations, hopes, and aspirations. my hard work and sacrifices will be in vain, and my excellent outcomes would become worthless, I can see tears stinging my eyes just as a thought. There has to be a way. I must go to Los Angeles and I must get a college degree.

I have been speculating on someone who can help me in any possible way. I have no rich auntie or uncle to whom I can flee for support. My friend Andrea is the only one I know that can help me financially. I can't tell how rich she is, but she has since become successful. Andrea is two years older than I am.

She recently celebrated her 21 birthday at the Westin Bonaventure tavern and suites. She has been shuttling between Los Angeles and California for about 3year. Every time she goes and returns, she appears richer and even more beautiful.

Her lifestyle and influence constantly have been wagging for two years, she has opened two boutiques here in California, and everybody knows the money didn't come from her parents because they cannot afford such superfluity. Yet, no one knows what Andrea did to get all this money.

At one point, I was interested in speculation and the source of her money. I need help, and I Think That she will be able to help me at this breaking point.

I should have a heart-to-heart conversation with her. I sent Andrea a"please call me "text. I rarely have airtime on my phone, even when I did, it was rarely sufficient for calls. So I sent her an SMS hoping that she would respond, and I waited patiently. It was only a few minutes, but it was the longest wait of my life. Even though I was expecting it, I jumped to my feet at the sound of an incoming call.

"Hello," I said as soon as I answered the call.

What's up? I got ur-text message," Andrea replied.

Noting much babe, just chilling, please, I need to see you urgently."

"I hope it's nothing serious. I'm at the bouquet right now, so you should come over," She said.

"Ok," I'll be there shortly".

Hope climbed through my whole being as I hung up and I was somewhat relieved. Not only did she call back, but she also sounded open to hearing whatever I had to say.

I quickly went through my set of unpleasant, worn-out clothes I had brought as second hand. I didn't have anything nice to wear, my hair was so unkempt. Even though I was going to ask for assistance, I knew she might help me.

To be honest, we were not the closest of friends because my parents never liked her in the first place. They felt she was growing up too fast, as she always acted older than her age. Nonetheless, their opinions did not matter to me at this point.

A tangible education is the best thing parents can give their child, and my parents couldn't afford that. Thinking about the situation got me upset and I have to take a deep breath to compose myself. I reminded myself there was no use in getting annoyed and all worked up over what I could not change.

It was better to focus on finding a way out. I looked through my clothes one more time and decided on a pair of jeans and a white shirt. I pulled my hair into a bun, I laid my edges. put on a little make, and hit the road; I wish I could take a taxi but I just had only $100 in my purse so I have to take a cab to Andrea's bouquet.

She was attending to the customer when I arrived, so I took the chair closest to me and waited, grateful for the air conditioning after enduring scorching sun all through the ride on the cab.

l watched Andrea as she gestured in conversation with her customer. Her hair, her outfit, her manicured nails, the beautiful jewelry that adorned her fingers and wrists, the perfect makeup, and her glowing skin instantly fueled my hunger for a better future.

I knew I was fashionable, but I had no money to flex or to make myself look good. I quickly looked around the boutiques, all the clothes there were brand new and obsessive, I wanted it all.

Hey girl,

"I said, standing up as she walked towards me.

"You are always looking beautiful, see how fresh your skin is."

"Stop whining about me being," she said, laughing and leading me to a private corner with a desk that had leather chairs on both sides. She took her seat and pointed to one of the chairs opposite her. She turned to her left, took out a bottle of malt and a glass cup from the small fridge beside her, and filled my glass with a drink."

Whatsapp you sounded very strange over the phone," she said, placing drinks in front of me.

The glass was frosted immediately, which means the drink would be refreshingly cold, but I wasn't there for that. Ignore it and lean towards her.

"Andrea, thank you I will drink later, please I need to get out of here and move to Los Angeles.

Things are not moving smoothly over there, my parents barely managed to see me through my high school education, and even though I passed with flying colors, it looks like I will be stuck here without achieving my dreams. and I can't allow that to happen. I won't sit in this town with my parents while life passes me by, please help me. I'm willing to do absolutely anything to make my dream come true.

Andrea, can you imagine? After all the effort I put in getting good results Being in that house, watching my parents with zero ambition is killing me. I need to leave this place by any means possible, please. I need to find a way to get to Los Angeles, make some money and further my education. you are the only person who I know can help me out, I have no wealthy relatives I can ask for help. Please help me."

As I gushed about my struggles and frustration, Andrea listened to me with a pity face. When finished she sighed

deeply.

Maddison, I know everyone thinks I'm a prostitute, that sells my body for financial favors," she said, looking into my eye. Don't even try to deny it, I know that is popular morality. I have heard the rumors and all the side talks. people look at me, my boutique, my car, and the little luxury I have been able to achieve, and the only conclusion they came up with is that I sell my body for money. Maddison the truth is that I don't.

I remained silent as she leaned forward, bringing her expression closer to burrow. Everybody knew that she achieved her wealth through runs and frankly if I had to sell my pussy to get out of my situation, I was willing to do just that.

I met a guy, a white man in his 40s, "she said. He took a liking to me and decided to change my life. All I have to do is to be his collaborator and that is how things turn around for me."

I didn't believe a word she said but that wasn't my business at the point. "Andrea please, how can you help me?"

Andrea picked up her phone and excused herself. "Let me make a call and I will get back to you." She was on the phone for about 20 minutes. I could not read her lips but I did hope that something positive will be the outcome of it. Finally, she ended her conversation over her phone and walked back to me.

"So I called my friend and he wanted to meet you." She scanned me with her eye from my head to foot and frowned slightly. "This your hair and clothes look somehow sha."

"meet me?" I asked. " What does that have to do with me getting to Los Angeles?"

"Don't worry, he will help you. just do what he says."

"Okay, when do I have to meet him?"

"He is a very busy man but he said Saturday will be dressed, picked two dresses from that rack and tried them on. I will lend you my black wig too," Andrea said.

"Thank you but I don't have any money to pay for these dresses, "she said.

"Don't worry I am not selling them to you. consider them as gifts from me. When you get there, be well-mannered and act classy. And don't tell him your real age," she added, "Got that?"

"Yes. I'm so grateful to Andrea, but I hope that I will not do anything that I don't want to do?"

"Are you accusing me of being a pimp?

Abeg, I'm just helping you. What I am doing is giving you a connection. what you do with it is your own choice."

"Oh Okay, thank you very much. God bless you. So, this is your friend....

His name is Xander, "she cut in. He is an older guy in his 40s, not from here, he just lives here because he works with a multinational here.

I will text you the time and place of the meeting, as well as his number. Finish your drink and come and choose your dresses,

"She said.

After looking at all the gorgeous dresses on display, I picked two beautiful ones.

"Thank you so much, Andrea, "I said as she wrapped up the black wig with two dresses and handed the bag to me.

"You are welcome, my dear. "She counted $ 500 notes, placed them in an envelope, and handed it over to me. "When going to see Xander on Saturday, please take a cab and not a bike."At that, we could not help but burst into laughter.

I arrived home tired and hungry, as common, no one in the house had prepared any food. Everyone was waiting for me to handle the chores. My sixteen years old twin siblings, Michael and Martha, were sitting in the dining room doing their homework. As soon as I walked in, the demands began.

Sister Maddison, please help me with my homework."

Sister Maddison, I'm hungry, we haven't eaten anything."

Sister..."

This is the story of my life, day in and day out. I have become a glorified house girl in my own home, and my parents have no desire to see my parent status change. I honestly can't wait for Saturday. I'm hopeful things will go well. I can't wait, at last, my dream of going to Los Angeles will become a reality.