Night Terrors

I loathe the night. Nothing good has ever come of the dark abyss swallowing the warm glow of the sun. Night is when I work, night is when the men come, and night is when my nightmares are relived. Only when the daylight comes and Bella comes to relieve me of my shift do I find any relief. Yet, it is always short-lived, for when I pass out from exhaustion on my rag covered mattress the terrors come, the horrifying tricks my mind play on me as my body tries to rest. Memories of the men that have come to pay for my “services,” the bastards that think themselves better than me and the rest of us women unlucky enough to be here.

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Men are nothing but dirty slime, I think, as I trudge towards the cockroach infested closet-sized bathroom. My last client the night before had been worse than the usual, he decided it would be amusing to bring a knife into the room and cut me while he fucked me. The sick pleasure he got from it nearly turned my stomach. The only upside to it was the extra tip I got as he pulled up his pants and walked out the door. I was now a few dollars closer to my freedom, escape from this miserable life I begrudgingly lead.

“Kat!” I shuddered as I heard the horrible nickname that nearly everyone in the home called me. “да?” (Yes?) I answered as I wandered back into the clothing scattered room to find Natalya sitting on her cot holding a piece of ice to a harshly bruised eye. “Hell, what happened?” I moved to sit next to her, grabbing a cloth to wrap the ice in and putting it back against her face.

“Damn Irish man had a hell of a temper. I told ‘em he had to use a condom and he slugged me one. I would’ve hit him back if I wasn’t so close to having all my money payed back.

“You’d better keep it hushed about how much you’ve got, if the heads find out they’ll be added interest to it or stole your stash; They’ve done it to me twice I’d hate to see it happen to you.” I had a bad feeling that she was going to find her money missing in the next few days.
In the multiple years I’ve been in this pitiful excuse for a business, I’ve never seen anyone actually get out. I’m determined to get out one way or another; I won’t waste my life being used as a toy for these filthy men. Don’t think I haven’t tried running away, I have, but somehow I always get caught. Somehow, somehow soon, I’m getting out of here; I honestly don’t know how much longer I will be able to stand this lifestyle. I’d rather die than stay here another year, hell has to be better than this.

“I’m going to see if there is anything in the kitchen, want to come?” I offered as I made my way out of the splintered doorway.

“No thanks, I doubt there is much in there. Maybe a couple cans of corn.” She leaned back on her cot, her eyes drifting shut as she laid the cloth beside her, the now melted ice letting water soak into the bedding.

“Better than nothing, I haven’t had anything since the roll on the way to work last night.” I said more to myself than anything while I walked through the dingy halls towards the poor excuse for a kitchen.

I finally found a loaf of bread and some peanut butter in the back of the cabinet and made myself a sandwich along with a glass of tap water.

I heard a noise coming from the doorway and turned around, expecting to see Natalya, only to be disappointed in seeing Draven. “What do you want?” I spat, turning around and setting my sandwich down with a shaky hand.

“Well, aren’t we testy today my little whore.” He strutted inside, reminding me suddenly of an arrogant rooster.

“Just tell me what you’re here for; I shouldn’t be needed for at least three more hours.” I stood up and tossed the remainder of the sandwich in the trash, I’d lost my appetite.

“You shouldn’t be wasting our food; you’re going to be too busy soon to eat anything else today.” I could hear the sick grin on his face as he spoke, and I felt myself sink.

“What are you talking about? I don’t have to be available for three more hours.” I spun around glaring at him.

He looked so fucking excited; he must have someone rich coming in. Great, it’s always the rich ones that want to play dirty, I thought regrettably. But each client means a little more money towards freedom; I have to keep telling myself that.

“Awh, come on babe. What’s a couple extra clients gonna hurt? I’ll even let you have the whole tip, if they give one.” I groaned and cussed under my breath.

“Listen, get one of the other girls to do it, I’m not in the mood for this shit.” I crossed my arms and leaned back against the counter trying to distance myself from him.

“But the client wants someone young, and you’re the youngest we have.” He had that dangerous glint in his eye that I had learned to fear. I shifted myself slightly to the side, wondering if I would be able to make a dart to the doorway.

“I’ll think about it, I’m going to go to the room now though.” I tried slipping past him to get through the door.

“Oh, I don’t think so; I didn’t say I was done with you yet.” Suddenly, I found myself shoved against the fridge, an arm on either side of my head and a sadistic grin spreading itself across his features. I felt myself begin shaking again, this felt like déjà vu.