My head swooned and swirled with a sickening sensation. I clutched the results, its edges piercing into my heart. 

The verdict was clear. It was vaginal cancer.

The words glared back at me, like the sneer on the doctors face.

“How long do I have?”

"Six months," he replied, certain and indifferent. 

The look on his face made me feel so dirty than I was already.

He must think I deserve it. Which other way would a filthy whore like me get punished?

I thanked him and left the hospital gathering shards of my broken self. Behind me was a growing murmur. The nurses ahead of me equally had a knowing look.

It wasn't a secret anymore.

But the question thumping in my chest was: what do I do with six months?

Do I continue living a whore's life?

I was fully booked for the next week. I could imagine tonight's client heated in excitement. He would be meeting the famed damsel of the brothel. And like most of them, he would return home to his family. To fullness and love, and I, to emptiness with half a million in my bank account.

I look around the home and cars I bought at the cost of my body.  The furniture was state-of-the-art. Whom do I leave it to?

My only brother? Or the lover who mapped this path for me?

If I could go back in time , I would write him off my life.

Everything began with his promise of a better life in this city.

My parents were gone and I was left with a ten year old boy whose sincere smile saw me through my darkest times.

That was when I met Jimmy while on a job hunt. He was my first man before he turned my boss and middleman.

I wasn't given a choice. 

At the end of our contract, he left me with nothing but a teenage boy who could end up in the streets anytime.

It wasn't the life I wanted for my little brother. 

I do not regret my choice, but how do I leave now?

Kicking off my heels, I stepped on the terrace. There was one way to end it all.

But my phone buzzed, kicking me off my drift.

It was Michael calling.

" I am dying," I said to him. “ How do I leave with myself?”

"You forget you raised a doctor, sister.

Before you think of leaving me. Let me repay you a little."

I allowed Michael to run a second test after much persuasion.

It came back negative.

Micheal went ballistic, threatening to sue that doctor and shut down his hospital.

" No, Michael. We won't do that," I said, proud and thankful.

“I have been given a second chance. I won't let anger consume it.”