by Zara Zenia
“You’re an ugly good for nothing! A skinny little runt with nothing but a good pair of tits.”
I pulled my suitcase over the cobbles with new tears stinging at my eyes.
“The bitch,” I mumbled to myself. “The fat, ugly bitch.”
I have no idea where I’m going. When I’d left home this morning all I had was a vague idea of running away and being free. I jumped on the first train with nothing but the fantasy of an open road and endless possibilities ahead of me. The reality, however, is different.
Standing in the rain, I pull out my purse and look inside. There are a few twenty dollar bills, an out of date condom and a photograph of my little brother, Ronnie. Looking at the picture, I see his young, innocent face and big, blue eyes. I snivel and feel my chest become tight at the thought of leaving him behind, but it had to be done. I couldn't stay forever in the house that had caused me so much pain.
"I'll see you again someday," I say to the photograph. "I'll come back for you. I promise."
I shove my purse back in my bag and look out across the city. I know I'm in a place called Meridian but until I got off the train, I'd never heard of it before. Now, as I watch the sheets of rain travel across the street, I realize why I was the only person getting off at this stop. There's not much here, not unless you're into abandoned buildings and broken glass.
Squinting to see into the distance, I see the flicker of something red. As I walk closer I realize it's the flickering light of a motel. It looks dismal but with no other option, I run through the rain and dive into the reception area, the little bell above the door tinkling as I arrive.
"Hello, there!" a cheery voice says.
I look up and see a young man behind the counter. He has a peculiar smile plastered across his face as though he's trying to hide something. I notice he has a wet brow as though he's been sweating.
"Are you looking for a room?" he asks.
His mustache twitches as he talks, a thick bushy thing that hovers beneath his nose like a sleeping rodent.
"Erm... Yeah. I'm new in town, just need a place for a few nights."
"New in town, eh?"
He smiles again, his eyes shining as he looks me up and down. I think he looks like a serial killer.
"Yeah," I say. "Just arrived."
"And what brings you to Meridian? Love or money?"
His voice quivers and squeaks as he talks, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down his skinny neck.
"Hopefully both," I reply with a heavy sigh.
He raises his eyebrows.
"Having a tough time?"
"That would be an understatement."
"Well, we're really pleased to have you here. We don't get many outsiders."
I look over my shoulder and out the window. The place looks almost abandoned.
"I can see why. Anyway, I just need the most basic room you have. So long as there's a bed and a television I'll be happy."
"Well, we can certainly do that. We have plenty of single rooms available right now."
"Sounds great!"
He takes a step back and looks at a set of keys on the wall, his fingers hovering over the room numbers as he decides which one to give me. I can't help but notice that he's taking his time. Eventually, he turns back round with his brows furrowed together.
"Hey, I don't mean to be rude but I gotta ask, you're not a working girl, are you?"
"A working girl?"
"You know," he gulps. "A lady of the night."
He wiggles his fingers in front of his face to emphasize his sordid words.
"No," I shake my head. "I'm not a lady of the night. That would imply I have a job, which I don't."
We stare at each other for a moment.
"Ok," he hands me a set of keys. "Your room is the last one at the end of the corridor down there. It's a small room but it's clean and it'll have everything you need."
"Thank you."
I take the keys from his hand and for a second my fingers brush up against his. They're oily but cold and I shiver as I pull away. Heading for the door, I linger in the doorway as something crosses my mind.
"What's wrong with a lady of the night anyway?" I ask.
He stiffens and shuffles from one foot to the over. He picks up a pen from the desk, clicking it repeatedly as he thinks of something to say.
"There's nothing wrong with them, per se, it's just that my mother really doesn't like us having them here."
"Oh."
"Yeah... They're real popular in this area but she's a God-fearing woman, you know."
"I see."
"Why are they here?" I ask. "I mean this town is pretty dead, doesn't look like business is exactly booming."
He narrows his eyes as he looks at me. It's as though he knows what I'm thinking and I look away to the floor.
"Business is always booming if you have a nice body," he says while looking me up and down once more. "Plus, we get loads of truckers that pass through here. They always know how to find a good time."
"Un huh... Well, thanks for the room. See you tomorrow."
As I walk away I feel as though his eyes are burning into the back of my head. Turning around, I see he's still looking at me, his eyes beady and sinister. I shudder. Strange guy...
Clicking open the door to my room, the first thing that hits me is the smell. I thought he said this place was clean! The carpet sticks to my shoes as I walk in. Part of me wants to know what could make a carpet so dirty while the other part of me is terrified to find out. I can see that at one time the decor would have been ruby red with soft furnishings that made the room feel like a plush, velvet womb. But now the red has faded to a salmon pink and the furnishings are threadbare. I'm a little put off to see the bed is heart shaped and the sheets look as though they're as old as I am.
"Ew!"
I drop my suitcase and open the bathroom door. I had expectations of a steaming hot bath with scented candles and a hot chocolate but that now seems impossible. The tiled walls are lined with mildew and I can see from here that the bath taps are rusted. Looking at the toilet, I see the seat is coming loose, held on gingerly by a single crumbling screw. I back out slowly and close the door.
The bed creaks as I sit on it. Running my fingers over the sheets, I can feel the bobbles on the old fabric. I wonder how many people have slept on these and how many lost souls just like me sought the refuge of this room. Grabbing my purse, I look inside. There's now only one twenty-dollar bill left, the only money I have left in the world. My stomach rumbles and I look down to my flat belly and think about the last time I ate. Yesterday maybe?
I need to do something and I need to do it right away! Twenty dollars isn't going to get me far but what am I to do? Lying back, I stare up at the ceiling and feel the tears trickle over my temples. It's then that I notice it, the cigarette butt that's stuck to the ceiling fan. How did that even get there?
Just when I think this room couldn’t get any more disgusting, I pull back the sheets and see stains, dozens of them. Some are yellowed, the remnants of someone's sweat, while others are unidentifiable. I pull the covers back over and curl up into a ball, shivering under my rain soaked clothes as the tears fall harder. This was the worst idea ever. I'm going to die in here. I'll fade away and starve to death or pass away from the soul destroying sensation of loneliness. There must be something I can do, anything at all just to survive.
"Ladies of the night," I whisper to myself.
I wonder if working as a prostitute is something I could do. Remembering a documentary I once saw, I think about how dangerous it is and how girls are expected to do unthinkable things on the streets for the smallest amounts of money. These girls are desperate, all alone and often the only family they have is a pimp. I'm desperate too, I think. Right now, I'd do anything for money.
Before I can question myself, I rip open my suitcase and fling my clothes all over the bed. When I was leaving home, I had grabbed everything in my wardrobe and now I see a weird assortment of
clothes in front of me. There are boring, beige sweaters mixed in with Halloween costumes and little black dresses balled up beside tatty, worn out jeans. There is, however, a pair of heels, a red pair I had bought years ago but only worn once. I kick off my sneakers and push my toes into them. They hurt like hell. I take a few steps and feel like crying again. They’re almost impossible to walk in but I don't have much of a choice. I then find a small pair of denim shorts and a bikini top. I put them on and look in the dusty mirror. I think I look ridiculous. Sexy, but ridiculous. In weather like this, I would most likely get sick from the cold but wasn't this what all the working girls wear? I think back to the documentary and remember how some of them wore little more than G-strings out on the streets.
Rooting through my makeup bag, I find a tube of lipstick that's almost worn down to the bottom and some mascara. I apply both and look back in the mirror. It'll have to do.
Standing in front of the door with my trembling fingers wrapped around the handle, I take a deep breath.
"You can do it, Felicity. You have to do it or you'll starve."
Flinging open the door, I'm hit by a cold breeze that sends a shockwave of goosebumps over my skin. Then I take a step outside and begin teetering along the road to where I can hear car horns blaring.
I feel hideously self-conscious and wrap my arms around my shivering body to shield myself from the cold. But it’s no use, nothing seems to warm me up. The rain, although now not as heavy, spits at the back of my neck. Ripping out my hair band, I let my hair fall around my shoulders.
As I turn the corner and walk out onto the main road I see all the girls lined up along the sidewalk. I hang back for a moment, worried that they’ll think I’m encroaching on their territory. But they don’t seem to notice. As I watch them, I soon see there are so many girls they probably can’t keep track of each other. I linger in the darkness under a broken streetlamp, watching as they come and go. It doesn’t seem too long until they find someone to pick them up, then another car pulls up to the sidewalk and lets another girl out without so much as a goodbye let alone a peck on the cheek.
It’s all so cold and calculated like a conveyor belt. I wonder if the girls ever get scared to get in the cars. I’m sure as shit terrified right now with my knees knocking together as I shake uncontrollably.
“Think of the money, just think of the money. You need it, you need to eat.”
Stepping out from the shadows, I join the horde of girls. They don’t pay me any attention and at the moment, it strikes me that I am now one of them, just one of the many unfortunate girls who are children of the night.
Some cars pull up beside us but it seems to be first come, first serve with the more confident girls rushing forward. I’m too scared to do anything and just stand still, my heels feeling as though they’re glued to the ground.
Out the corner of my eye, I notice a figure walking out from an alleyway. It’s a guy, the only man along the sidewalk. He doesn’t seem like he should be here, he’s too good looking and young, not like the overweight older guys I’ve seen pick up girls. He looks as lost as I feel and for some reason, I think I have a chance with him like he’d understand me.
“Hey,” I shout.
He’s staring into the distance, his eyes tracking a blue car as it disappears down the road.
“I said hey!”
I grab him by the shoulder and pull him toward me.
“Hello,” he finally says.
“You looking for a date, honey?”
“A date…”
He looks baffled, so completely perplexed that for a moment I wonder if he knows where he is. He looks me up and down, his eyes zoning in on my tiny clothes.
“So… We hookin’ up or what?” I ask.
He parts his lips to speak then hesitates.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what you want from me.”
“Are you looking for a good time?” I ask, my voice sounding a little too angry.
“I’m always looking for a good time!”
“And do you want to have a good time with me?”
“Erm… I think so.”
“Follow me, honey.”
I take his hand and walk him away from the other girls. He can’t take his eyes off them as we pass.
“Aren’t they cold?” he asks.
“I sure am.”
“Why aren’t you wearing more clothing?” he asks.
I burst out laughing.
“You crack me up. What’s your accent anyway? You sound kinda foreign.”
“I am,” he replies. “I’m from a place far, far away from here.”
“Sounds nice… I mean, to be far away from here.”
I turn to him and our eyes meet. His face is handsome and chiseled with high cheekbones and dazzling eyes. He’s buff too like he works out a bunch. Maybe this won’t be so bad, I think. He’s pretty hot.
Leading him to my room, making sure the manager doesn’t see, I close the door quickly and peak out through the blinds just to double check no one saw us.
“What’s your name?” he asks from behind me.
I turn around and see him crouched in front of the electric heater as he rubs his hands together.
“Felicity,” I say. “Although my friends usually call me Flick.”
“Flick,” he nods. “I like it.”
“And what’s your name, honey?”
He doesn’t answer.
We stare at each other for what seems like the longest time. I know what’s expected of me. This is when I’m supposed to take off my clothes and service him. This is when the good time is supposed to happen. But if I were to be honest with him I would have to tell him that I hadn’t been with that many guys. I mean I’d had a boyfriend for a few years, a shy boy who liked to make love with the lights off but we’d broken up months ago and there’s hadn’t been anyone since. I could count on one hand the number of boys I had kissed, could count on one finger the number of penises I’d seen. Oh shit, I think. This is happening for real.
Hooking my fingers into the straps of my bikini top, I begin pulling it off, dropping it to the floor as I reveal my breasts. His eyes widen as he sees me. If I’m not mistaken he looks a little worried and as I pull down my shorts, he looks positively terrified.
“You ok, honey?”
He nods.
“What are you doing?”
“Showing you a good time, of course.”
“Oh.”
I’m standing in just my panties and heels. Once I take off my last item of clothing I know that I’ve officially crossed the line. There’s no going back.
“You look worried,” I say.
Somehow this was not the reaction I was expecting. He’s standing there just staring at me as though he has no idea what he’s looking at. Oh, God. What if he thinks I’m ugly? Maybe that’s it. Maybe he thinks I’m unattractive!
“Well, this is it!” I laugh to stop myself from crying.
I let my panties fall to the floor and it’s then that I realize I never asked him for the money.
Chapter 5
Voland
This is the most interesting thing I’ve ever seen. A female human without clothing is quite spectacular. There are things that do not belong on a female Orban's body such as mammary glands that protrude from the chest. Of course, the only reason I even know what they are is because I read about them in a book Alison gave us. It was about human anatomy but until now, all I had seen of human breasts was in a picture book. I long to reach out and touch them. They look so soft and snuggly like I could go to sleep on them but also play with them and grip them hard if I wanted to.
Yet breasts are not the only thing she has that Orban's don't have. As I look down to her waist I see a small hole in the center of her stomach. From my understanding, this is where the human mother feeds their child when they are still in the womb. It's such an odd concept, one that confuses me the more I think about it. I stare at this little round hole and wonder how nutrients coul
d pass through it or how it could survive through to adulthood. Then I notice something else, there’s a small jewel right above it attached to a little, metal bar. I squint to see better, the dim, red light of the room not illuminating her body properly. The jewel glints as she walks toward me, sparkling with a deep blue radiance. She sees me look at it and cocks her head to the side.
“You see something you like?”
I point at her belly button.
“What’s that?”
“Eh?”
“The metal thing with the jewel… Is it a communication device?”
She blinks at me, her lips dropping open although no sound escapes her mouth.
“It’s just that where I’m from we have small communication devices that are quite like that, well they look the same anyway. I hadn’t seen one since I arrived here so I was surprised to see one on you.”
Again, she says nothing. She takes a step back and glances behind her at the door as though she’s thinking about running out of it. I wonder what she’s thinking or why she’d want to leave after she stripped naked.
“Are you one of those crazy people?” she asks.
“Crazy people? I repeat.
“Yeah.”
She touches a finger to her temple and makes a circular motion.
“I just… I dunno, I just wanted to know if you were a wacko or whatever?”
“What’s wacko?”
She shrugs.
“You know, strange, looney, a bit gaga.”
I don’t know what she’s saying but I nod and smile politely.
“Oh, yes. No, I’m not one of those people.”
She narrows her eyes. I can tell she’s in deep thought, one hand on her hip as she leans to the side. Looking at the patch between her legs I see a little tuft of blonde hair. I notice it doesn’t look like the one I saw in the anatomy book where the hair was long like a wild animal. This girl looks as though she’s groomed it carefully, making a perfect, short line of hair that ends just above the parting of her labia. I can’t describe why but I have the sudden compulsion to know what’s between the lips, to feel the warmth of her inner skin on my fingers.