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The Memory
Can we ever leave?
After the ever so pleasant encounter with Catherine, I searched for Luce but instead found Sarah and Maggie. I looked long at them, confused. They were identical twins with white-blonde hair, moss green eyes, and fair skin. Both were tall and skinny, I couldn't distinguish one from the other. In soft, musical voices they chimed to me, "What room are you in?" I responded quickly with "room five on the right." They moved away, silently like ghosts, towards the work hall. I half-ran to keep up with them.
"We do a wide range of things here for Jacob's clients. It all depends on how much they're willing to pay." I paled and prodded them "What kinds of things do we do here exactly?" They smiled delicately at me, "We start with small things like dancing for them then that turns to stripping or maybe a lap dance. We allow hand jobs and blow jobs. We allow them to use our bodies any way they want. We allow them to fuck us." I blanched "How are you supposed to teach me that?" They smiled again, "We have special clients that will come in and work with you. We also will allow you to be in the room when we work as well-just so you can see what actually happens and in a few weeks from now you will have your first client on your own. Meet here every day from 7-10 to learn. Don't be late." And with that they left. I sunk down on the bed with my head in my arms. I don't know how to do this. I can fend for myself on the streets just fine without getting involved in some sort of brothel.
I grabbed my bag, which had been moved to the room, and dashed to the kitchen. I shoved countless amounts of food and water bottles into it and also a box of matches I was lucky enough to find. I shoved open the window Luce earlier had shut and slipped out the window. I had no chance of finding my way out in the maze of hallways inside.
I was standing in a large garden. Tall trees and moss covered stones. It was very pretty actually. I wandered towards the side of the garden and found myself facing a very tall concrete wall. Shit. I gazed at the top, realizing I couldn't climb over it. I followed the wall towards the front of the property, all the while gazing at the house. The house was a mansion with dark panels and blue paint. It seemed normal enough from the outside-not a house full of prostitutes.
After what seemed like ages, I made it to the front of the property. The sun felt warm on my back here. There was a door in the concrete wall up front, I made a dash for it and found it to be locked. Disappointed I began to look for a driveway. None. This place was a jail. A prison! I had to get out. I followed the concrete wall again, looking for a tree I could maybe climb and jump over. A shadowed loomed above me and I turned to face it. It was Jacob. "What are you doing, Azalea?" He smiled politely. "I want to leave." I demanded. He slapped me hard. Then grabbed my arm, threw me on the ground and kicked me a few times. "You don't leave unless I say so." He grabbed my arm again and dragged me, screaming and kicking, back to the house. Once inside he continued to drag me down another hallway and flung me into a very dark, cramped room. "You will stay in here till your lesson at 7." With that he slammed the door and I heard the snap of the lock. I fell to the floor crying. This place was no better than the one I ran from.
"We do a wide range of things here for Jacob's clients. It all depends on how much they're willing to pay." I paled and prodded them "What kinds of things do we do here exactly?" They smiled delicately at me, "We start with small things like dancing for them then that turns to stripping or maybe a lap dance. We allow hand jobs and blow jobs. We allow them to use our bodies any way they want. We allow them to fuck us." I blanched "How are you supposed to teach me that?" They smiled again, "We have special clients that will come in and work with you. We also will allow you to be in the room when we work as well-just so you can see what actually happens and in a few weeks from now you will have your first client on your own. Meet here every day from 7-10 to learn. Don't be late." And with that they left. I sunk down on the bed with my head in my arms. I don't know how to do this. I can fend for myself on the streets just fine without getting involved in some sort of brothel.
I grabbed my bag, which had been moved to the room, and dashed to the kitchen. I shoved countless amounts of food and water bottles into it and also a box of matches I was lucky enough to find. I shoved open the window Luce earlier had shut and slipped out the window. I had no chance of finding my way out in the maze of hallways inside.
I was standing in a large garden. Tall trees and moss covered stones. It was very pretty actually. I wandered towards the side of the garden and found myself facing a very tall concrete wall. Shit. I gazed at the top, realizing I couldn't climb over it. I followed the wall towards the front of the property, all the while gazing at the house. The house was a mansion with dark panels and blue paint. It seemed normal enough from the outside-not a house full of prostitutes.
After what seemed like ages, I made it to the front of the property. The sun felt warm on my back here. There was a door in the concrete wall up front, I made a dash for it and found it to be locked. Disappointed I began to look for a driveway. None. This place was a jail. A prison! I had to get out. I followed the concrete wall again, looking for a tree I could maybe climb and jump over. A shadowed loomed above me and I turned to face it. It was Jacob. "What are you doing, Azalea?" He smiled politely. "I want to leave." I demanded. He slapped me hard. Then grabbed my arm, threw me on the ground and kicked me a few times. "You don't leave unless I say so." He grabbed my arm again and dragged me, screaming and kicking, back to the house. Once inside he continued to drag me down another hallway and flung me into a very dark, cramped room. "You will stay in here till your lesson at 7." With that he slammed the door and I heard the snap of the lock. I fell to the floor crying. This place was no better than the one I ran from.