My father is a brain surgeon. He works although he doesn’t need to work because we have money in the family. We are rich. But don’t hate me. Pleas... don’t hate me. If you saw me in the street, you might think I couldn’t fail to be happy, you might think I’m one of those girls who “has it all.” Or you might know better. You might also think that men were lining around the block for me. And there you’d be right. There is a motley bunch who line up along the railings out my building. They are. “The thing about you is,” said Susan, still caressing her thigh, “you’re the type of slut that’s good for a fuck, but utterly disposable. I don’t blame Danny for fucking you, not anymore. I just wish he had realized that once he was done with you, he should have thrown you away like the trash you are.” She took a drag off her cigarette. She looked down at Katie's bare feet, noticing the girl’s ankle bracelet. “This is cute,” she said earnestly, touching it. “Did he get it for you?” She had been. More

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