What time is it? I stretch my body and force my eyes to
open. Its 7pm, time to wake up and prepare myself. A new day, a new hell.
Honestly, I don’t feel like waking up, I don’t want to think of what I’m going
to do tonight…but I have to. I pick my toiletries and head to the shared
bathroom, I’m lucky today as no one is inside yet. I have to be quick, I’m
hungry, and the last time I fed my stomach was 12mn. It’s almost 9am when I got
home this morning. I hope I have better income tonight. Customers seem not in
the mood these past few days. I look for the scrubbers to scrub my skin; I have
to remove the dirt from yesterday; I wish even memory can be removed through
bathing. It’s not the right time for self pity, I need to hurry and prepare
myself so scrub, scrub, scrub. Customers
might be out there now, I can’t keep them waiting, and I need them more than
they need me. After cleaning my body, I
head back to my small room, time to cover up. I need to transform now. I need
to enhance my look so I check all my paraphernalia, cheap make up, eye-shadow, and
eye liner, foundation, concealer, lipstick and big bottle of perfume. I have to
look my best tonight. Finally I’m done, one more look...Hmm, I think I look
good now. It’s dark outside, perfect!
Maybe you are wondering now about what kind of job I have, to educate you, I entertain people. I entertain men. I have to satisfy their needs, their desire, the lust of their physical body. I have to give them the best performance every night, a performance that their real life partner can’t do to them, I am a hooker to make it short. In the morning, that’s when I sleep with my paranoia and disappointment. It’s when I removed all the pain and dirt I have inflicted to myself. At first, every morning I would cry, this was not my dream when I was a child. I want to be a doctor before, to cure the sick and to be rich so I can bring my parents on world tour. But my father died when I was in elementary, my mother lost her will to fight against life when we lost him, she became sick and weak. I was not able to finish my school, but I know how to read, to talk and understand English, only a little. I may not have become a real doctor, but I still cure, I cure the needs of men, of my customers. All I know now is I am fighting life, to help my sick mother, to help my brothers and sisters back home. So they won’t experience the kind of life that I am fighting every day. As the days become months and months to year, my mind and body become numb to all the pain too. I need money more than anything else. I can’t be so dramatic; I have to feed my mother and siblings back home. I have to be strong. I need to earn more every night, save and go home.
Here, people condemn me; they treat me as the dirtiest woman
alive. I’m a trash, dirt in the community, a lost Magdalena. Whenever they see
me outside, men would whistle or call me names, wives would look at me in a very
disgusting way. At first I fight back, but not anymore, I have learned to
ignore them. Some of what they’re saying is true. I don’t want to be mad at
them because they don’t know my story. I want to give them an understanding
that they deserve. I hate myself too because I know I am dirty. Had my father
know this I know he’ll be mad at me; but he was not here anymore. I had to take
over his position in our family and fight the battle to survive our daily life,
for my weak mother, for our precious family. Do you think I like this job? I
don’t. I hate every single bit of it, I hate it, but I have no choice. This is
the easiest way to earn money; the easiest and the dirtiest way. It’s the same
reason why I don’t go out during the day except to buy food or shampoo or
conditioner. Why I wear double-padded make up? So
I can protect my face, the face that my loving father and mother adore; the
face that I use at home. It is also the same reason why I don’t make friends, I
don’t need them. I have friends back home, real friends. I may have looked
tough on the outside; inside I am still that little girl…
.....To the wife, son and daughter, girlfriend, fiancée of
those men whom I had entertained and will entertain, my sincerest apology. I
never invested feelings with them, and they don’t either, I promise you. I am
not asking for your understanding or acceptance for I know that won’t happen, I
only want to relay information, the world is cruel and I am one of the victim
but sad to say, no one is a suspect. I only need one thing, money.
One day, I will start another journey...a journey back home.
(I wrote this to better understand their life...the lost darna)
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