3: SIMON

MEREDITH'S POV

Tired, stressed, hungry, and depressed. These were the emotions I was living with these days. Brenda, my best friend, pulled up to my building. “No, not the front. Take me around the back,” I told her.

“Mer, don't tell me you owe Mr. Smith rent again.”

“OK Bren, I don't owe Mr. Smith rent,” I snickered. Brenda pulled up around the back.

“How much?” She asked.

“Three thousand six hundred dollars,” I sighed.

“That's three months!” Brenda exclaimed. “Why didn't you tell me sooner?”

“Brenda, I can't keep taking money from you. You already helped me out with food and meds for my mother. I can't keep pressuring you like this.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? I am your best friend, and you and your mom had been there for me since I was eight and going through shit with my step-father. I could never repay you guys for what you did for me,” she hugged me, then she opened her purse. “This is all the cash I have on me now. Give it to Mr. Smith and tell him you'll get him the rest by weekend.” I took the money from her and counted it.

“Brenda, this is two thousand dollars,” I gasped. “Where did you get all this money from?”

“I told you, I'm seeing someone,” she winked.

“Who? The President?” I asked.

She giggled. “I promise you'll meet him soon. Lenox is pretty low-key.”

“Lenox, huh?” I laughed. “So is he from school? Do I know him?”

“No, he's a little older than me,” she answered.

“Oh. So he graduated already?” I pressed. This guy must have been already established to be giving his girlfriend so much money. Or he could be a trust-fund baby. We had a few of those living in the upper hills of the town.

“Yeah,” she said. Her phone buzzed, and she smiled as she checked the message. “This is Lenox now. I'm meeting him for dinner.”

“OK. And thanks again for the money,” I hugged her.

“No problem,” she smiled as I exited the car.

I waved goodbye as she drove her beat up old buggy away, then I slipped through the fire escape window, but when I reached my flat door, Mr. Smith was there, slipping a note beneath the door. So much for not wanting him to see me. “Mr. Smith,” I greeted.

His eyes narrowed. “I want my rent, Meredith. And if you can't pay this month, then you and your mother are out. I don't care if she's sick.”

“I have money,” I handed him the cash. He stared at me from top to bottom with his creepy eyes. He licked his fingers before he counted the notes.

“It's still short sixteen hundred dollars,” he explained.

I took my key out and unlocked my door. “I will get you the rest weekend.” I told him as I swung my door opened. But before I could shut it, he stuck his foot in, barring the door from being closed.

“Not so fast, Sweet Thing, maybe we could work something out,” he smirked, looking down at my chest.

“Like a payment plan?” I asked, knowing damn well he didn’t mean that.

“No, Sweet Thing. I’m talking about you giving me what I’ve wanted since the day you moved in here. If you give it to me once per month, then that could be the payment for the rent. And if you give me oral, I will pay your utilities and buy you groceries too,” he grinned at me and his yellow teeth made my stomach nauseous. I couldn’t speak. “Come on. What ya say about it?” He used one finger and ran it down the side of my face. My skin shivered from disgust.

Mr. Smith was over fifty years old. He had a receding hairline and a bald spot. His eyes, teeth, and fingernails were always yellow, showcasing that he was suffering from jaundice or kidney disease. I may have dropped out of nursing school, but I’ve attended enough classes to know what a sick person looked like. His beer belly jiggled like Jell-O every time he spoke, laughed or walked.

I slapped his hand away. “No, thank you. I will get you the rest of your money weekend. Have a good day, sir,” I declared.

“You wait a minute. I know you are a whore. So you can sell yourself to the rich guys and not me? Is my money not good enough for you?” He leaned in closer to me. His breath smelt like stale beer and cheap cigarettes.

“I don’t know what you are talking about. Now back off.”

“Where’d you get the money from, Meredith? I know waiting tables doesn’t pay this well,” he chuckled, grabbing my waist and pulling me into his body.

“What are you doing?” I fought to get free. “Let me go.”

“Come on. I know you’re whoring. I have seen your blonde friend all over town with Lenox Fuller, and he’s the same age as me,” he tried kissing me on the lips. I used my hands to shove his face off me. My nails were so sharp, they scratched him across his jaw. “You little bitch!” He staggered.

“Is everything alright here?” Simon, my neighbour from across the hall, asked.

Mr. Smith looked at him with disdain. “Go back inside and mind your own business.”

“I wasn’t talking to you, dipshit. I was talking to the lady,” he stepped in between Smith and me. “Meredith, is it?” He asked, and I nodded. “Are you OK?”

“Yes I am. Mr. Smith was just leaving.”

Mr. Smith grumbled. “I want the rest of my money by Friday,” he yelled as he walked away.

“Thank you,” I smiled at Simon. I had a huge crush on him since the day I moved in. But with everything going on with my mother’s health and our financial difficulties, I didn’t want to add a relationship to the mix. So I kept to myself.

“You’re welcome,” he smiled, and my tummy made a move that I mistook for butterflies, but really I was starving. The only thing I ate was a candy bar and some coffee at the hospital. My stomach roared like a lion, embarrassing me in front of Simon.

“Oh Gosh! This is embarrassing,” I giggled awkwardly.

“Don’t be. We all get hungry sometimes.” Yeah, but not all of us had money to buy food. “Hey, I just finished cooking spaghetti and meatballs. There’s enough for two.”

“I couldn’t impose.” My stomach grumbled again.

“Nonsense. I’ll be honoured. I’m tired of eating alone,” he confessed.

The desperation in his voice softened my heart. “Maybe I could eat a plate or two,” I laughed, and Simon ushered me inside his flat.

The dinner was amazing, I meant his cooking was superb. I learnt he was doing a course in Culinary Arts at the same university Brenda and I attended. He asked me how come he had never seen me there before, and I had to tell him I dropped out so I could take care of my sick mother.

He pulled out a six-pack of beer, and we sat on the carpet and drank and laughed. Simon was so fun and easy to talk to. He was 24, only four years older than me. My head was getting light and my speech was slurred. I knew it was time to go.

“Well, thanks for dinner and the beer,” I told him as I struggled to get up.

“You’re leaving already?” He asked.

“Yeah. I’m tired and a little tipsy. My bed seems like the place to be right now.”

“Or,” he stood up too, and held me by my waist. “You could spend the night. My bed is quite comfortable, too.” Before I could speak, Simon was sucking on my lips, kissing me.

“Simon, I can’t,” I told him as I tried to wiggle out of his hold.

“Come on, I know you like me. I see the way you look at me when you pass me in the hallways. You think I don’t notice you, but I do. You’re so beautiful and sexy,” he grunted, sinking his head to my neck and sucking on my skin.

“Simon, no! I don’t want this.”

“Yes you do. You accepted my invitation to dinner and kept staring at my lips the whole night, plus this fucking sweater you’re wearing is tempting my cock the way your nipples continue to stare at me.” He slammed his lips on mine again, and I mustered up all my strength to slap him hard across his face. He let me go and cupped his jaw. I backed away now, terrified by the evil look in his eyes. He lunged at me and I turned around and ran to the door, but before I could open it, Simon grabbed me by my hair and smashed my head against the door.

“Simon, please. Don’t do this,” I begged. He gripped my hands behind my back and pressed my belly hard against the door. I bit my lips when I felt him shifting my underwear beneath my skirt. “No!” I cried. I tried to fight him, but my body seemed weak, and I wasn’t a fool to realize that he had drugged me. He used his knees to pry my legs apart. My whole body went numb when Simon slipped his penis inside my vagina. He raped me for hours and when he was done with me, he took me to his shower and bathed me. He took my clothes and burnt them in his fire place. I was still too weak to walk, so Simon lifted my naked body bridal style and took me to my apartment. He placed me in my bed and whispered. “If you tell anyone, I will go to the hospital and poison your mother, and don't think the police can help you. My father is the chief down at the station.” He placed a lingering kiss on my forehead.

I gazed at his back as he retreated to the door, tears falling down my cheeks and wetting my sheets. I didn't release my breath until I heard the front door close.