SCARS. (Short Story Fiction)

Prologue:

At 15, with a body of a full grown woman, it wasn't hard for Adella to blend with the other "putas." Her best friend is Carlota, a tranny whore, known in 'her' younger days as Carlos. Adella is 5'2" tall, but full bodied with breasts that scream a 36 DD cup.  Carlota towers over her at almost 6' flat plus 5-inch platform heels, has a shrill voice and an undeniable pitchy laugh, and has really been more like Adella's guardian.  "Bucho" is their butt ugly pimp.  His face rough and hairy, pimple-scarred; his eyebrows bushy and thick that meets at his nose bridge making him look very sinister. Bucho's nose is bent and crooked, left unfixed.  He is a very nasty man, well, all "pimps" are.  When he met Adella, she was almost 15 years old and he drooled like a starving beast, jumped and "sampled" her right away.  She wasn't a virgin however.  Adella has had a boyfriend a year back, Marcello.  He was already 19, Adella was 14, young and naive.  
Adella believes she is unlucky with people she loved, they all leave her behind. Her Father had left their home when she was 10 years old.  Her Mother, impoverished and despondent, decided to keep her youngest son, 8 month-old baby. Adella, plus two other younger brothers, were given away to relatives and other homes, where they had to serve as helpers for food and a roof above their heads.  When Adella met Marcello, she hoped he would be her ticket out of the shit-hole. She was wrong.  After having had enough of her young, fresh body, he disappeared from her life as quickly as he had appeared.  At that time, feeling completely dejected and lost, Adella run away from her Auntie's place.  Out on the streets on that cold night, she met Carlota.  For a man-whore, Carlota has very huge augmented breasts, but Adella feels Carlota's heart is bigger.  Carlota took her in, but since Adella didn't know what else to do for a living, she begged Carlota to introduce her to Bucho.


Epilogue:
It was a rainy night and the "sex business" was running low.  Adella and Carlota huddled under a badly tattered tarpaulin in front of a dark sleazy bar in Tijuana. They shared a joint while they talked.  Carlota was chattering endlessly about finding the love of her life who will marry her and make her a real queen. Adella just laughed and giggled as she always does when Carlota babbles.  Carlota dutifully fixed the knots on Adella's corset and said, "Your breasts get bigger everyday chica, one they they will just burst and be no more!" 
"Por favor Mama Carlota, stop teasing me.  Maybe I can buy a new set when Bucho gives me my bonus!" Adella said excitedly.
Carlota piped in, "Adelina, estas loca? No seas tan idiota! Bucho never gives anybody a bonus, even if he said he will. I will just make a new one for you." 
Adella speaks in her little child voice, "But I owe you too much Mama Carlota, I may not be able to pay you back!"
"Cono Adella, we will buy a nice, pretty cloth this Sunday and make a sexy new corset.  I promise it will make you even look muy hermosa!" Carlota lovingly said.
Adella turns around, tiptoes to hug Carlota and said, "You will always be the most beautiful woman Mama Carlota, siempre."
"Si mi nina, I know that" and she breaks into a wild, warbling laugh.
They were still laughing when they were startled to hear loud voices and commotion happening inside the bar. They both rushed to look in.  
Bucho, around less than a dozen men, were standing in a Mexican stand-off. They should have run away, but Carlota suddenly screamed and what happened next was complete chaos. Shots were being fired, chairs and tables thrown around, bottles hurled and used to whack heads. Adella hid behind the bar but she sees Carlota slumping down, she's been hit!
Without thinking, she runs to her side, shouting her name... "Mama... Mama Carlota!"
Just when she reached Carlota's body, a man pulls at her hair and drives a broken bottle across her face. Adella fell unconscious.


Conclusion:

The woman diligently mopped the old wooden floors.  Sweat beads trickle down from her forehead to her face and neck.  She didn't wipe them off but continues mopping. Her worn out dress cloaked what was once a voluptuous and shapely body.  She stops to catch her breath.  A small glean of light catches her face and she ducks quickly to evade it. If you were watching that moment, you would have caught a glimpse of the zigzagging keloid scars that marred her angelic face.  The scar traces down from her left temple across her eyelid and into her cheeks and left upper lip.  Jarring and bizarre to look at. This has kept Adella from the outside world and she has preferred the comforts of the dark since that night 14 years ago. 
Adella looks like she in her mid-40's although she had just turned 30 years old. She is a far cry from the young woman that she was before.  She was sexy, pretty and popular.  She owned the top ranking talent for Bucho, her pimp, among his stable of whores.  She would pole dance, lap dance, only to the choicest customers and highest bidding clients. Back in the days when she still allowed herself to wish and to hope. She is now serving the Nuns in this Old Monastery, but even these people who have vowed their lives to God, preferred to keep Adella in the back room.  They did not want her to scare the village people, especially the children.  After all, she looks hideous. There were many times Adella had tried to kill herself, but even with death, she has been unlucky.
She had finished mopping and started wiping the floors dry. As she finishes, she looks around to see if there was anybody else, then she packs her tools and walks briskly with her head bowed down.  The Nuns have given her a room at the back of the convent's kitchen.
Adella stops walking momentarily and hears movement and breakfast being made.  It must be 4:30 in the morning. Her morning chores done, she rushes to bathe, then she picks up a set of old clothes from a box and puts it on.  She never combs her hair.  It was once golden brown, long, and soft. Her hair wet and still dripping, she goes to the small sink and brushes her teeth.  Through a small window, she peers carefully at the rising sun, it's early light trying to break into the sky. She sighs deeply.
There are no mirrors in her room, just a small crucifix, a Bible and a rosary given to her by Sister Mary Marguerite. To Adella, Sister Mary Marguerite is a living Saint.  And to Sister Mary Marguerite, Adella is her beautiful, lost child.
Adella closes her eyes as a tight knot squeezes her heart.  In her mind, she sees flashes of faces; Mama Carlota, Bucho, her brothers who probably believe she is already dead; her father, her mother, crying; Marcello, the only man she loved in her life; the faces of many different men she hardly knew, smiling, laughing, in ecstasy.
She unconsciously touches her scars and reflects: "I have mattered so little in this world, I am even more insignificant now." A lone tear falls down from her right functioning eye, "I did promise Sister Mary Marguerite that today is not a good day to die. Perhaps tomorrow, the day after, or some day, I will finally get lucky."
Hell has been her life.  Maybe in her after-life, she thinks there might be a heaven.