Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten


A month seemed to pass in the blink of an eye. Rosalie was easy to live with. She didn’t ask questions about where I came from or why I’d been living on the streets. I knew she wanted to know, I could see countless questions burning in her soft brown eyes. I had all the freedoms a girl my age could possibly want. I was allowed to come and go as I pleased, as long as I didn’t bring trouble home with me.
I came and went, but only during the day and never far from home. I was a little worried about running into the man Rosalie called Papa and without her to protect me I wasn’t sure what he would do if we met again.
Kandace was a different story. She was cold and short with me, never saying more than a word or two to me whenever we were in the same room. In a lot of ways she was like Jessica. Never giving me more than an inch and never friendly. She never acted this way in front of Rosalie; I think she knew Rosalie wouldn’t approve of her behavior.
The pair of them kept pretty odd hours. It was a daily surprise each morning when I woke up. It was like playing the lottery. I could either wake up to a breakfast of piping hot scrambled eggs and buttered toast – the scent of which would make my mouth water like garden hose. The alternative to scrambled eggs was a sweet little note propped against the salt shaker. The first time I woke to an empty apartment, I found the note propped against a box of Fruit Loops, my favorite cereal. I picked it up and read it, the scent of Rosalie’s perfume, overly sweet, clung to the thin scrap of paper.
It seemed like they were always coming and going, and the phone, it never stopped ringing. My first day here Rosalie gave me strict rules to never, under any circumstances answer the phone. I admit I was curious, curious about who was calling, and even more curious about how they earned a living; but if that was all she was going ask of me then it was the least I could do for her.
I asked Rosalie about it once, she patted my head like I was an adorable puppy, then flashed me her million dollar smile and sweetly said, “Don’t you worry your gorgeous little head about that.”
So I let it go. I was curious, but figured like all things, I’d figure it out eventually and that satisfied my curiosity. Not to mention I had a good thing going here. I had food in my stomach, clothes on my back and a roof that was made up of more than just a piece of flimsy cardboard, over my head.
Rosalie had even gotten me signed up to take my GED, and was helping me study for it. School had been the furthest thing on my mind when I decided to run away. Apparently, not much of anything had been, but that didn’t matter now. I wanted to finish high school, not finishing was not an option I wanted to consider and now it wouldn’t be. I would finish high school, maybe even go on to college. And it was all because of Rosalie.
I looked up from the book I was studying, glancing out the window at the grey November day. Below, the wind whipped leaves into a frenzy, chasing them down the side walk. I was thankful to be inside, comfortable in a sweatshirt and jeans. My stomach rumbled, causing me to glance at the clock. It was past lunch time. Setting the book down, I moved into the kitchen, building the sandwich of all sandwiches in my head. I’d just completed my masterpiece when a knock sounded at the door.
My stomach dropped like a stone, my hand frozen above the sink. The knock sounded again. My pulse rushed in my ears as I quietly set the knife into the sink. Chewing my lower lip I stepped into the living room. Rosalie had made it understood I was not to answer the phone, but she’d said nothing about the door. Of course, if I couldn’t answer the phone, then answering the door should have been obvious. The knocker tried again, making it apparent they weren’t backing down easily. What if it was something important? What if Rosalie was expecting something and forgot to tell me?
I moved toward the door before I could second guess myself, disengaged the deadbolt and pulled the door open slowly. The chain lock caught and I peered out.
“Hello?”
“Oh, hello.” A man’s voice answered. He looked to be in his middle years, with dark brown hair and blue eyes set in tanned skin. His teeth were too white and his suit pressed. The tiny hairs on the back of my neck stood on end as his eyes moved over my face through the small opening.
“You must be new. I’ve not seen you before.” His voice was soft, cautious, that of someone speaking to a small and frightened animal. “Kandace around?”
“She’s unavailable at the moment, can I take a message?” My voice sounded strong, controlled, even though the rest of me was shaking under his scrutiny.
“Damn, I was hoping to catch her. I’m a regular. Brice Hayward.” He flashed a smile at me, as if that explained everything. “Are you taking clients? You have amazing eyes.”
My heart stuttered in my chest. It took every ounce of control I had not to slam the door in his face. I didn’t know what the hell he was talking about, but I knew I wanted him gone. I’d seen that raw hunger in the eyes of too many men in my life.
“I’ll tell Kandace you stopped by.” I slammed the door on his objection. The deadbolt slid home with a satisfying click.
I’d done it. I’d talked to a man. Yes, my hands were shaking and I wanted to throw up, but I’d held my own. I hadn’t crumpled. Something inside of me flared to life, glowing warm and bright, a feeling of…could it be pride?
I skipped back into the kitchen, collecting my sandwich. I ate by the window, watching the world pass by below me.

**********


Dusk crept across the sky, slowly claiming the last ounces of color from her breast. I’d been alone all day. I moved, ghost like, through the condo. It was rare for both Rosalie and Kandace to leave me alone all day, and I was beginning to feel lonely.
Loneliness and boredom lead to worry, the nagging feeling gnawing away at my gut. What if something happened to them, how would I know? No one would even think to notify me. I could sit here for days and never know. The police would be barreling down the front door, searching for clues into Rosalie and Kandace's life, and then I’d know for sure.
I stood before the fridge not really seeing the garish magnets or notes taped to it. In my head I saw macabre images, bloodied and broken body parts lying discarded in the gutter. I was so swept up with my grim musings that when the deadbolt clacked open, startling me. I whipped around in time to see Kandace storming through the door like a beautiful tornado.
She flew towards me, her eyes narrowed angrily. “Are you stealing my clients,” she shouted.
I stared stupidly at her. What the hell was she talking about? “Your clients?” I asked.
“Don’t play dumb with me you little…” She shoved her finger in my face, her long acrylic nails like a fancy talon waving before my nose.
“Look, Kandace I don’t know what you’re talking about. A man came by and asked for you, but I said you weren’t here and asked to take a message. I didn’t do anything other than that.”
She eyed me dubiously, expecting me to crack under her scrutiny. I stared back, defiant. I didn’t do anything wrong and I wasn’t going to admit otherwise. I think she saw that, the resilience in my stance, in my eyes and backed off.
“From now on,” she hissed, “Don’t answer the damn door.”
I watched Kandace turn on her heel and stalk off down the hall. Her bedroom door slammed shut, the framed photos on the walls bounced and slammed back then all was silent again.
I went back to the window and sat down, staring out at the street below. Harried people the size of ants rushed to and fro across the sidewalk in the twilight.
I wondered where Rosalie was, when she was coming home. The book I’d been studying earlier was still lying face up on the coffee table. I sank down, picking it up as I fell into the sofa.
The tiny print on the page blurred as I stared at it, my mind wandering. I glanced at the clock, then back down at the page, trying to concentrate. I re-read the same paragraph again for the fourth time then gave up, tossing the book back on the coffee table. It landed with a loud thump as the pages fluttered.
I clicked the television on, searching for something to watch. I stopped on what looked like an interesting movie. Lying down, I tucked a throw pillow under my head and lost myself in the movie wondering when Rosalie would be home.
The soft click of heels and whispered conversation woke me. I sat up, rubbing my eyes. My neck was stiff from sleeping on the couch, and my hand tingled from where it must have hung off the edge. I stood, stretching out most of the kinks. I could hear Rosalie and Kandace in the kitchen. I could just barely make out their conversation but it sounded heated. I crept over to the bar, keeping low.
“No! No. Not while she’s here.” Rosalie whispered fiercely.
“We have to! She’ll be fine, you can speak to her! Besides we don’t have a choice. It’s our job. I’ve already spoken to Mandi and Adelle. They’re good to go tomorrow night. I say we set it up.”
Rosalie and Kandace stared at each for a long moment, eyes flashing.
“Fine. Make the call.” Rosalie sighed, running her fingers through her hair as Kandace danced around her.
“What’s going on?” My voice sounded small, scared.
“Nothing, nina. Come, I need to talk to you.” Rosalie shot Kandace a look, moving toward me. Her arm wrapped around my shoulders as she led me to my bedroom. Her perfume washed over me, calming me.
“Sit, querida.” Rosalie clicked on my light and sat on the end of my bed. She looked tired, worn out even. I gasped in shock when I noticed the puffiness of her lips, the faint bruise at her neck.
“Rosalie?” My heart thumped in my chest as I hopped off the bed. I pointed at her neck, words leaving me. My finger shook as my eyes watered. I love this woman. She took care of me. This couldn’t be happening.
“Be calm, querida. It’s nothing. Armand got a little rough. I’m fine.” She placed her hand on my arm, guiding me back to the bed. Her brown eyes were warm and full of love as she looked at me.
“What’s going on, Rosalie?”
“Ashley, there’s nothing for you to worry about. Kandace and I need to throw a little party. It’s for our clients.” Her eyes were steady on mine as she brushed the hair from my face. There was something hidden in those chocolate depths.
“Your clients?” Confused, I lifted my hand to my head. I felt as if the world was spinning. Pieces were beginning to click together, though I didn’t want to believe them. The phone calls, the odd hours.
“Ashley, Kandace and I …We’re call escorts. And every so often we host a client mixer. It’s a way to bring in new clients and make our regulars feel important. You're too young to be exposed to this life. I want you to stay in your room. Can you do that for me?"
“I’m not a child, Rosalie. I think I’m old enough o go to a party!”
“That’s not it at all. These people, these men, they’re no good, querida.”
She took my hand, but I yanked it away, rising from the bed to pace. I shook my head, balling my fists as I turned back to her.
“If they’re so bad why are you with them?” I accused. I flinched as pain bloomed in her eyes. It made me realize I didn’t know as much about her as I wanted to believe.
“I don’t want anything to happen to you, hermana. Believe me, if I could change it, I would. But this is my life. And I have to make the best of it.” She rose, moving toward the door. “Do this for me, el amor.”
I watched her leave, anger and guilt warring in my heart. Who was she to tell me what I could and couldn’t do? Who was I to cut her so deeply? Groaning I threw myself onto the bed, burying my face into a pillow I let out a muffled scream. Feeling slightly better, I rested my head on my arms and stared at the clock on the wall. I would do as she asked, if only because she was my savior and deserved that much.
The seconds ticked away, and sleep crept in. Soft conversation lulled me, and I blinked into unconsciousness.

Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

Night came quickly, bringing with it a bitter chill. I dug into my bag, fishing out my sweater. I stared at the measly amount of clothes stored there. I wished now I'd planned better, but I hadn't expected Caroline to turn on me.

Shoving my hands in my pockets I kept moving. If I stopped for too long I would freeze. Panic tickled my gut; I squashed it down but couldn't quite stop the thoughts.

Where was I going to sleep? The sandwich and chips from Caroline were long gone and my stomach was making noises. I wrapped my arms around myself, fighting back tears. How had I gotten to this point? Scared, alone, with no one to turn to and nowhere to go.

My stomach rumbled again, painfully this time. I wished fervently I'd taken some food, some money. I thought of all the money I had tucked safely away in the bank. Untouchable without a parent or guardian. My mother's legacy all but lost to me now.

The wind kicked up, the cold sneaking into the fibers of by sweater. I had to find somewhere to go, somewhere to get out of the cold. I blinked, looking around for the first time, slightly surprised to find myself at the opening of an alleyway. The alley was close and dark, removed from the glow of the street lamps. But it was closed on three sides, offering protection from the wind. Biting down on my shame I moved into the alley, feeling instantly warmer.

An overflowing dumpster cast its stench into the night. The smell made me gag, but maybe it would keep others at bay. Something hanging over the side of the dumpster caught my attention. I didn't dare to hope as I moved cautiously toward the dumpster. A small sardonic laugh escaped my lips as my fingers closed over the blanket. It was thin, but whole. Greedily I yanked it from the smelly confines and wrapped it around me. Surprisingly it smelled of cinnamon and vanilla. I looked around for a place to sleep, my eyes were heavy and I could barely stand.

A large cardboard box caught my eye, seeming to call to me, offering shelter. Climbing into it I snuggled into the blanket, staring out at the sidewalk. A hysterical laugh bubbled up and out. Tears streamed down my cheeks as my laughter reverberated off the stone walls. Laughter dissolved into quiet sobbing. Pulling the blanket over my head I shut out the world and cried myself to sleep.

**********

"Good morning D.C! It's a beautiful Monday morning. Highs today look like they're going to be in the lower 60's, with lows dipping down into the 50's."

I let the weather mans voice faded into the background as I sipped a glass of water. Was it really Monday again? Had it been that long already? I'd been living in my box for two weeks now, if the smiling weather man was to be believed about the date.

My stomach rumbled, but I was used to it. It had taken me the better part of a week to find this place. It was a perfect little place, they never asked questions and the water was free, so I wasn't going to die of dehydration. The fact that they were twenty four hour was a major bonus.

Weather gave way to sports and soon the TV was lost to the sounds of a morning commute. The scent of bacon and coffee soon filled the diner, stirring my stomach. I clamped down on my hunger, willing myself to ignore it. The man next to me grumbled over something in the paper, threw some bills onto the counter and walked out. Two strips of bacon and a piece of toast lay untouched on his plate.

Saliva pooled in my mouth as I stared at the plate. Six inches, that's all I would have to move. My fingers itched. I didn't move. Even desperate and starving I couldn't steal. My stomach roared in protest at my decision. Forcing myself I looked away from the food and took another sip of water. This time my stomach revolted. The pain was almost more than I could bear. Just a bit longer, I thought, another hour and all would be fine.

The scrape of a plate and flat ware caused me to look down, before me sat a plate of eggs and bacon. Shocked I looked up into the smiling face of Eddie, owner and cook.

"I-I can't pay for this." I whispered, not daring to hope.

"Hate to see food go to waste." He grumbled, shuffling back to the grill. I watched as he expertly flipped pancakes and turned bacon.

A glass of orange juice was set beside my plate by a manicured hand. I looked up into another smiling face. This one belonged to Kim, a girl around Jessica's age. Her honey colored hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail. She was pretty, even the garish orange diner shirt couldn't hide that.

"Better eat up, darling. Eddie don't do that for everyone, now." White teeth flashed before she moved down the bar refilling drinks.

Lifting my fork I speared a bite of egg. It practically melted on my tongue. Eddie winked at my soft sigh. I smiled at him, biting into a crisp strip of bacon. Somehow I felt I'd made a friend.

I ate slowly, savoring every bite, and yet it was gone before I knew it. I whiles away the afternoon in a back booth with the crossword and soap operas. I was pondering five down when Kim placed a ham sandwich before me. She didn't say a word, just set the plate and a glass of milk before me and walked away with a smile.

It continued on like that, Kim silently bringing me food through the night. The daytime dramas turned to prime time news. I watched the street lamps winking to life and thought of my alleyway and box. Tonight was going to be cold, and I was dreading leaving the warmth and comfort of the diner. I feared pushing Eddie's kindness more.

Sighing I lifted my backpack and made my way to the front of the diner.

"Thank you," I mumbled to Eddie, leaning against the bar. I wasn't sure if he'd heard me. I thought I saw his head bob, but I wasn't sure. I nodded to Kim, then stepped out of the diner, the silver bells above the door sounding my exit.

The cold took my breath away. I couldn't wait to get to my blanket. I scanned the sidewalk quickly for quarters. I had fifty cents in my pocket. I needed two dollars at least, then I would be able to wash my clothes. It would do little good as I would still be unclean, but I couldn't stand the smell.

"Wait!"

I turned, fear gripping my stomach. Kim stepped out of the diner holding a jacket.

"Someone left this here a few months back. It's too small for me and Eddie said to get rid of it. Maybe it'll fit you?"

Tears stung my eyes as I took the heavy winter jacket. How could I have gotten so lucky as to meet these people? All the diners in the city and I somehow managed to pick the right one.

“Thank you,” I whispered, slipping into the coat. It was a high quality jacket; grey in color and filled with goose down. Whoever left it would be missing it, I knew I would have. It was a little big, but it was warm and comfortable.

Kim smiled at me, her eyes full of questions I knew she would never ask, then turned and walked back into the diner.

I watched her go. I wasn’t ready to go back to my alley. I longed for the comforts of home. Were they still searching for me? My heart clenched at the thought of Margret. She would cry over me, I was sure. Deep down she knew the truth, but she was blinded by a mother’s love. I couldn’t fault her for that.

My breath steamed out before me as I walked the lonely streets. I shoved my hands into the pockets of the jacket, thankful for the warmth. My mind wandered as I walked, not paying attention to the world around me.

“Hey, Darlin’. Need a warm bed for the night?”

I jumped, my heart clutching as the slurred voice split the night. My eyes fell on a man leaning against a door frame. His jeans were torn and dirty and unbuttoned at the waist. His shirt too was unbuttoned and open, offering a fair glimpse of sallow looking skin. He leaned forward, waggling his eyebrows at me. “Come ‘er little darlin’, I got some candy for ya.”

He lurched out of the doorway, stumbling toward me. I froze. My heart sped in my chest, threatening to break free. I knew I should run, I wanted to, yet I was rooted to the spot. The stench of unwashed man wrapped around me, invading me, causing me to gag.

“Back off, Papa. You’re out of line.” The sultry voice flowed out into the night, wrapping around me like a balm and pulling me from my stupor. I looked up into a pair of startling amber eyes. She walked toward me, black leather and lace clinging to her body. Orange hair hung in ringlets, bouncing off her shoulders. She was sex personified.

I stared, I couldn’t help it. I knew my mouth was hanging open. I’d never seen anyone like her. She stopped before me, looking down at me. Her eyes were kind, and she smelled of mint and jasmine, a strangely intoxicating scent. The man she’d called Papa cursed softly, then retreated into his house, muttering.

“What are you doing out so late, honey?”

It took a moment of working my jaw before words formed. “Just walking.”

“Mmhmm,” She didn’t sound convinced as she looked up and down the empty street. “You’re alone aren’t ya?”

I bit my lower lip and looked down. My chest hurt from my heart slamming against my ribs. I just wanted to feel safe again. I just wanted to be warm again.

“Come with me.” She wrapped her hand around my arm and pulled me along with her. I had to quicken my steps to keep pace with her long stride. Before long we came to a brick building. I caught glimpses of what I could as she tugged me inside. Laughter and the scent of alcohol filtered down to me as we climbed the stairs. She stopped at a door and smiled at me.

“In you go.”

The apartment was larger than I’d expected. The furnishings were mostly second hand, but beautiful. A long white couch dominated the main room, accented with deep purple pillows. A bright blue throw clung to a hunter green chair opposite the couch. The room smelled of unknown spices, and offered an unexpected warmth.

“Welcome to my home.”

“I don’t even know you’re name.” I stood just inside the door, afraid to move.

“I’m Rosalie.” She smiled at me, unwinding a scarf from her neck. The color was the same tone as her hair, and that was funny for some reason. She pulled off her leather jacket, revealing a low cut black top. Bright orange straps peaked out from under her arms. She watched me as she sat on a bar stool and pulled off her boots.

“I know you,” I stepped forward, looking closer. “I’ve seen you before. It was morning, and you were arguing with a man.”

Rosalie laughed the sound a sweet tinkle that filled the room. She laughed with her whole body. I liked that.

“That must have been Armand. We have a volatile relationship.” She looked at me, leaning her elbows on her knees. “I still don’t know your name.”

“Ashley, Ashley Jones.”

“Ashley, welcome.” She stood and walked around the bar into the kitchen. I followed, not wanting to be left alone. I sat on one of the bar stools, almost sighing as my butt sank into the soft cushion.

“Are you thirsty?” Rosalie called over her shoulder as she pulled open the door of the refrigerator. Saliva pooled in my mouth as I caught sight of a fully stocked fridge.

“Jesus, Rose. Did you pick up another stray?”

I jerked around, almost toppling off the bar stool. A young woman in her mid twenties walked into the room. She wore a tight blue sweater and white mini skirt. Her blonde hair fell in golden waves around her face, framing it perfectly. Her blue eyes were hard and suspicious as they locked on me, pinning me in place, before they moved on to Rosalie.

“Back off K, you were a stray at one time too.” Rosalie came around the bar and handed me a glass of milk. Her tone was light, playful, and yet firm. She was an interesting combination of the two. I was glad I’d met Rosalie first.

The blonde woman tossed her hair moving toward me. She was chewing gum, and the fruity scent wafted toward me. Offering her hand, she blew a large bubble, then popped it.

“Kandace.”

“Ashley,” I muttered, shaking her hand.

“Mine’s the blue room. Stay out of it.” And with that she was gone.

I stared after her, jolting at the sound of a door snapping shut.

“Don’t pay Kandace any attention, querida. She’s always prickly when meeting new people.”

Lifting the glass I took a long drink, the coolness of the milk soothing my nerves.

“Don’t worry, querida, you’re safe here.”

I looked up at her, trying to understand her. She didn’t know me at all and yet here she was opening her home and her life to me.

“Why did you bring me here? You don’t know me. I could kill you both in your sleep and take your valuables.” My voice rose with hysteria, my hands shook, sloshing milk from my glass.

“Shh, hush now, querida.” Rosalie took the glass and set it down on the bar, then gathered me into her arms. A great sob escaped my lips and I clung to her, breathing in her scent. Mint and jasmine.

“I’m not afraid of you, querida. You won’t harm us. And you’re right, I don’t know you, but everyone has a story. Should you choose to tell me, I’ll listen. But I’ll never pry.”

There was something about Rosalie that seemed to calm my soul. We sat on the couch, talking and sharing cookies until the first faint hues of pink began to paint the sky. With my stomach full and my soul satisfied, Rosalie led me to the spare bedroom.

“I always knew I would need the extra space. I’ve had a few other pass through for a few nights, but it’s been empty for about a month now.” She moved into the room, flipping on the light and stepping aside so I could come in.

The room was beautiful, yet simple. The full size bed was draped with a deep blue bedspread; sunny yellow sheets peaked out at me. There was a small desk on the left side of the room, a dresser with vanity mirror, and a small closet. I frowned inwardly; my clothes wouldn’t even fill half a drawer. The paint on the walls was a sunny yellow, and made me smile.

“You just stay here as long as you want, querida.” Rosalie stepped up behind me, resting her hands on my shoulders.

“Thank you, Rosalie.” I whispered, undone by her kindness. Maybe, even after all I’d been through, someone was watching out for me. Whether it was God or not, I couldn’t say, but maybe, just maybe, things were beginning to look up.

“If you need anything, just let me know. My room is straight down the hall.” She offered me a cheery smile, despite the lateness of the hour.

“Rosalie? Could I maybe, take a shower?” I chewed my lower lip and barely resisted the urge to twist my fingers. I’d picked up a lot of nervous ticks over the last year, and getting rid of them seemed to be harder than acquiring them.

“Of course, follow me. Would you like me to wash your clothes for you too? I think I have a shirt you can sleep in.”

Tears pricked my eyes once more as I followed her to the bathroom, She handed me a stack of fluffy white towels, then left me with a smile.

The tub was wide and deep enough to soak in. I set the towels on the counter and turned on the water. I quickly undressed and stepped in. A low moan escaped as the hot water blasted my skin. Nothing, I was sure, had ever felt so good.

I stood there, enjoying the feel of the water beating away the last two weeks. It was cleansing. I remembered something my Boppie had said, something about being washed by the water of Christ. Well, if that felt half as good as this I couldn’t blame them.

The water chilled and I reluctantly stepped out. Wrapping the towel around me I simply stood and relished being clean. Rosalie had brought me a shirt and a package of underwear. I didn’t even think, just tore into the package and slipped on a pair. I pulled the shirt over my head. Searching the drawers I found a brush and began to untangle my hair. Mindlessly I pulled the brush through my hair, staring at the mirror, watching the condensation dissipate.

My hand stopped mid-motion when I focused on my reflection. I was a mere shadow of myself. My shoulders protruded sharply from my skin, my cheeks were gaunt and my eyes hollow. My skin was pale and my hair was lank and listless. How could it have happened so fast?

But had it really happened so fast? I’d only been homeless and starving for two weeks, but I’d been slowly killing myself for months before that. I dropped the towel into the bin and made my way back to the room that was to be mine.

A muffled laugh and murmured conversation sounded from behind Kandace’s door. A smile crept to my lips at the normality of it all. For tonight I would get to sleep safely and comfortably.

With a giddy little laugh I climbed into bed and pulled up the covers. They had a light, summery scent to them, and I snuggled down deeper, breathing deeply.

I drifted off to sleep with the sun coming up, warm blankets surrounding me, and a roof over my head.

Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

The sounds of the city were deafening after the serenity of the graveyard. Once more my feet were slapping against the pavement of their own accord.
Would she even be home? What time was it? What day? My mind was spinning so fast I could barely keep up. I fingered the business card, worrying my lower lip as I made my way to Caroline’s apartment.
What if she wasn’t home? My steps faltered, stomach clenching uncomfortably. Then I would just wait, I decided.
The streets were busy, filled with people going about their day. I found it amusing how life could continue for so many when it ended for one.
My stomach was grumbling loudly when I reached her apartment complex. The building was a tall brick structure. Its many windows gleamed in the sunlight. Somewhere high above me I heard the melodic voice of Frank Sinatra, crooning about Lady Luck. The awning of the building was green with gold trim.
My stomach clenched painfully when my eyes landed on the doorman. Would he keep me from getting in? Taking a deep breath, I hitched my bag and started forward.
“Hello there, little lady.” His greeting was friendly, his eyes bright, but he made no move to open the door.
“Hello,” I returned, keeping my head down as I walked past him. I tugged on the wrought iron bar of the door and was rewarded with a dull thunk. Locked.
“Forgot your pass key?” Once more his voice was light, yet seemed mocking.
My eyes darted to the black box beside the door. The red light blinked tauntingly at me. I turned to him, tucking my hair behind my ear. He was younger than I’d originally thought. His name tag declared that he was Mo.
“Mo?” I blurted before I could stop myself.
“Short for Moses. And you are?”
“Looking for Caroline Fisher,” I hedged, looking back toward the door.
“Do you have a visitors pass?” His eyes moved over my body, causing goose bumps to riot over my flesh.
“She didn’t give me one,” I mumbled, taking a step back. Stupidly I held out her business card and tried not to tremble under his gaze.
A loud argument broke out down the street, catching my attention. It was a couple, and the man looked angry. Very angry. The woman looked none too happy either. She was right up in his face, yelling obscenities.
“Don’t mind them. They’re at it every morning.”
I kept my eyes on the woman. She was gorgeous. Her skin was dark as chocolate, her hair a fiery orange that somehow suited her perfectly. She said something to the man, pushed him aside then sauntered down the street.
“Miss?”
I yelped when Moses placed his hand on my shoulder; jerking away from him I pressed a hand to my chest, my heart thudding against my ribs my breath tore at my throat.
“Hey, easy. I didn’t mean anything by it.” His eyes, they were brown, were kind as they searched mine. His hand hovered between us, as if unsure of what to do. He was handsome, but handsome had a way of turning deadly.
“Please, I just need to talk to Caroline.” My voice hitched as I clung to my bag, knuckles white. “Please.”
Moses stared at me as tears slipped down my cheeks. I saw him relent. Watched his body sag. My heart fluttered as he moved toward the door, pulling a pass key from his pocket.
“I could lose my job for this. I’ve obviously lost my mind,” he muttered, swiping the card through the slot.
“Thank you so much. I won’t say anything.” I dashed for the door, pulling on the bar. It opened easily for me. I breathed a sigh of relief as I stepped into the lobby.
“Hey, lady,” Moses called.
I turned, trying to hide my nerves as I looked at him.
“Don’t forget to ask Caroline for a guest pass.”
My breath rushed out of me as I nodded turning and walking toward the elevator. I leaned against the silver doors slid closed. Finally, I would be able to see Caroline.
The ride up was smooth, the carriage coming to a stop with a soft chime. The doors slid open to a plush hallway. The walls were beige, the carpet a heather grey. I looked down at the rows of burgundy doors with gold lettering. This floor was quiet, everyone at work or out running errands, I supposed. I moved down the hall, glancing at the numbers. Nothing had changed, everything stayed the same. How was that possible? How could nothing change when everything had?
C5. My heart leapt, a smile lifting my lips for the first time today. I stopped with my hand raised, fear seeping into my bones. What if she wasn’t home and I had to wait? How long could I wait until someone reported me? Would it be Moses? He’d been nice to me, but my manner had been less than normal.
I shook off those thoughts and rapped on the door. I hoped she was home. Maybe if God hadn’t left me I’d have prayed. I needed to see her face, and I was starving.
The wait seemed endless, though it was mere seconds before the door opened. A sweet floral scent reached out and enveloped me. The scent screamed of home and tears blurred my vision as I threw myself into Caroline’s arms.
“Ashley!” Surprise colored her voice, but her arms wrapped around me, held tightly. She closed the door with her foot, leading me to the couch. I collapsed onto it, struggling to gain control over my emotions. I could see the questions forming in her eyes when she pulled me back, examining my face.
“Ashley, what happened? Why are you here?”
I had no more than opened my mouth when it all came pouring out; Jessica, Kirk, Dr. Johnson, the rape, everything.
“Oh, baby.” Caroline pulled me to her, holding me tight. Her hands never stilled; she stroked my face, my hair, my back, all the while murmuring softly. My sobs shook us both, but she never let me go.
“I’m so sorry Ashley, I’m so sorry.” Tears streaked her cheeks. Tucking my hair behind my ears, she pressed her lips to my forehead. “Would you like to pray?”
I jerked back as if I’d been slapped. “I don’t believe anymore.”
Caroline gaped at me, at a loss for words. Could it really be so hard for her to believe? What reason did I have to believe? Everything had been taken from me. Unable to look at her any longer I pulled my knees to my chest and buried my face in my arms.
“Ashley,” She started, but seemed to think better of it. She rose from the couch and walked into the kitchen. Her steps were soft as she padded back into the living room. She pressed a glass of water to my hand. I accepted it, drinking greedily. My stomach rumbled loudly when the water hit it. Caroline smiled down at me.
“When was the last time you ate?”
“Breakfast.”
She moved back into the kitchen. Dishes clinked against tile, the refrigerator whispered open and closed, and the crinkling of a bag teased my ears. I lifted my head when she came back in. She held out a plate with a hearty meat sandwich and sour cream and onion chips. My favorite.
I dug in, tearing at the sandwich in my haste to fill my empty stomach. Caroline looked away, a smile on her lips, as she allowed me my moment of savagery. The food didn’t stand a chance against a hungry teen. In moments nothing was left but crumbs.
“Thank you,” I whispered, sipping water. Once more she said nothing, just stood and took my plate to the kitchen where it clinked into the sink.
“Ashley,” my eyes locked on hers as she knelt before me. “Does Margret know you’re here?”
Pressing my lips together I shook my head slowly. I closed my eyes against the look in hers. I couldn’t lie to her. “I ran away.”
“Ashley,” Caroline shook her head, pulling her hands through her hair. I noticed then that she’d cut it. It fell in loose waves to her shoulders. I wondered when she’d done that. “You shouldn’t have done that. You should have called me and asked me to come get you. I might have been able to help you.”
I looked at her in horror. “Might? What do you mean? How could I have called you without Margret finding out? She doesn’t believe anything happened!”
My chest heaved; I couldn’t seem to get my breath.
“Calm down. There are certain avenues that must be traversed in situations like this. You didn’t call the police; you didn’t go to a doctor.”
I hadn’t called her. That was what she wasn’t saying. I could feel the hurt, as if it were my own. All the months I’d lived in a stupor, it had never once crossed my mind to call her.
“I didn’t know what to do.” I whispered, looking at my feet. Tears were clawing at my throat once more, but I fought them back. “I just wanted to come home.”
“Ashley, I have to report this.” Her voice was soft, yet firm.
My head jerked up in shock. Report this? What the hell did that mean? Once more she ran her hands through her hair and I saw it. A slight glint. I jumped up, grabbing her hand and yanking it to me. The ring was beautiful, simple and glorious at the same time. Just like Caroline. Betrayal sliced through my gut.
“Who is he?” I demanded, glaring at her.
“Thomas Howard. He’s a lawyer who works closely with my firm.” She waved her hand as if it didn’t matter. “Ashley, you can’t stay here. I’ll have to place you in a temporary home until we can conduct an investigation. Since you never reported anything, it will only make things more difficult. I’ll have to see about homes for the other children,” Her words trailed off as she searched for a notebook, oblivious to me.
I stared at her, this woman who was now a stranger. Temporary care? Couldn’t stay here? Blood rushed through my head, pounding in my ears downing out all sound. Who was this woman? Where had my Caroline gone? With a grunt of rage I slapped the phone out of her hand, shaking in anger.
“Ashley! What they hell are you doing?” Shock and annoyance ran across her face. And suddenly I didn’t know her at all.
I grabbed my bag and ran from the room. I could hear her calling my name as I pounded down the hall, my steps muffled by the carpet. I bypassed the elevator and took the stairs two at a time, my mind spinning. All I could think of, all I could feel was her betrayal. Not even she wanted me.
I slammed into the lobby and rushed the main doors. I slammed in Moses in my haste, but didn’t stop. I could hear him calling for me, soon joined by Caroline, but I kept running. I just kept running.
Alone. I was alone.
Always alone.

Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

Hot water rained down my shoulders as I lowered my head into the spray, my tears mixing with the water. My mind was numb; I couldn’t feel much of anything. Despair filled my soul. How many times was this going to happen to me? Covering my mouth with my hand, I sobbed. I didn’t know how much more I could take. If my Boppie had been there she would have told me God was testing me. That the Devil was playing tricks with my soul.

Blood trickled down my leg, mixing with the water, diluting itself as it journeyed to the drain. I wanted to believe. Desperately wanted to believe God was watching out for me. But if that was the case, why would all these things have happened? If God truly loved and cared for me then He would not have allowed my father to molest me, He wouldn’t have allowed Kirk to…to…

Sobs wracked my body once more. I fell to my knees with a pitiful whimper.

Where’s your God now?

His words haunted me, yet made me question. Where was God? Had he deserted me? Deemed me unworthy of his love? I didn’t know. But it sure seemed like he was ignoring my prayers.

I flinched at the knock on the door. My heart sped nine to the dozen in my chest, stealing my breath. The door creaked open and I curled into a ball, shivering despite the hot water. It was Kirk, back for more.

“Ashley?” Jessica’s voice was soft and filled with concern. The curtain was pulled back and she looked down at me, her eyes going wide.

“Oh God, are you okay?” She knelt down beside the tub, switching off the water and yanking a towel off the rack.

I peeked at her over my knees, my lips trembling. I wondered how I looked to her. Naked as I was I couldn’t hide the bruises blooming along my wrists, thighs and ribs. My lower lip felt swollen and sore.

“Y-you fell down the stairs? Kirk said you fell?”” Her wide green eyes searched mine as I stared blankly ahead. Her voice was hopeful, wanting to believe his lie when proof sat trembling before her. Her eyes welled with tears as she wrapped the towel around me and pulled me close.

Her arms were steel bands around my limp body. I shuddered, gasping as the numbness was yanked away and I felt. Oh God, how I felt. With a fierceness I didn’t know I had I wrapped my arms around Jessica, clinging to her. Her quiet sobs shook me, each one bringing a painful memory.

“Where’s your God now.” I muttered the words like a mantra as she lifted me from the tub and into her lap.

“Shh, hush now. I’m here.” Her hands were soft, comforting, and I felt she would do her best to protect me. Just as I knew her best wouldn’t be enough.

“Where’s your God now.”

**********

Margret was either the most naive woman I’d ever met, or truly believed there was some good to be found in her son, for she believed him when he told her I’d fallen down the stairs.

Wrong though it may have been, I denied any need to go to the doctor. The only doctor I knew was Doctor Johnson, I knew he’d see the truth behind the lies, but I couldn’t bring myself to reveal my weakness.

I lived the life of a zombie for the next several weeks. Jessica forced me to get up, to eat, to shower. I began to hate her for it. Why should I live? God had left me. My life was destined to pain. Why perpetuate the cycle?

My eyes had been opened to life’s horrors, and I could no longer shut them out.

Mena and Theresa had tried at first to bring me out of my stupor. Soon though, they gave up. Smart people will only beat their heads against stone walls for so long.

Margret watched me closely, as if she feared I would off myself or something. I’d thought about it, for sure. But if my mother had done nothing else right, she had instilled in me a sense of right and wrong. And I knew that taking my own life was wrong.

And yet…

Dinners were the worst. I hated sitting there, all eyes on me. Some part of me knew this was unhealthy; knew this haze I lived in everyday was bad for me. And yet I did nothing to change it. I picked at my dinner, barely touching it. I’d lost five pounds already and could see the worry in Margret’s eyes.

I did what I could to stay away from Kirk. His eyes were hungry and always on me. I woke in cold sweats each night afraid he would be there standing over me, demanding more.

There were nights I wish he would be there when I woke. The physical trauma would be much easier to bear than the emotional beating I was taking.

I began to dread the coming of school. I could barely contain myself here, what would I be like in a school of hundreds? No matter what I did, August kept coming. It didn’t seem to matter how tightly I closed my eyes, how hard I wished for time to rewind itself. Nothing changed. Nothing but me. Every day I broke just a little bit more. I wasn’t sure how much more of myself I could lose.

“Ashley! Dinner!”

I was laying in bed as was usual, curled up in the blankets. I ignored the call. The thought of eating turned my stomach. Footsteps sounded on the stairs and I rolled onto my side, burying my face into the pillow.

Please, just let them leave me alone.

“Ashley?”

I tensed at the sound of Jessica’s voice. I was a stranger to her now. Funny how a few months could change someone.

Funny. Haha.

“Ashley, its dinner time.”

I pretended not to hear her. Maybe if she thought I was asleep she would just go away and leave me alone.

No dice. I sighed as I felt the bed give to her weight. Twitched when she placed her hand on my hip.

“Ashley…you can’t keep doing this. You’re killing yourself.”

Why should she care if I lived or died? I was nothing to her. She’d gotten what she wanted. Kirk had gotten what he’d wanted. And I was left broken.

“You know why I can’t go down to dinner.” My voice was muffled by pillows, and raw with emotion. My skin itched at the thought of spending an hour sitting across from Kirk, his eyes on me, measuring.

“What is it this time? Afraid Mena’ll steal your meatball?” Jessica scoffed, taking her hand from me.

“Kirk. It’s always Kirk.” I whispered, hating the taste of his name on my tongue.

“Jesus, Ashley, how many times are you gonna try to cause trouble here?”

The disgust in her voice had me turning, confusion coloring my face as I tried to make sense of the emotions riding across hers.

“What are you talking about?”

“You! Ever since you got here you’ve messed everything up!” She launched herself off the bed to pace the room, her hands clenched into fists, her face twisted with rage.

“It was perfect. Everything was perfect, and then Margret got the call. My life was going so right! Kirk was starting to notice me and in two years I’d be out of here and with him. Then she brought you home!” She whirled on me, green eyes flashing with what could only be called loathing.

“I saw how he looked at you. How he watched you. How you encouraged him!”

I shook my head, my heart racing in my chest, tears burning my throat.

“No, Jessica, no.”

“Shut up! He talked about you. And you just ate it up, didn’t you? You loved knowing he wanted you more than me!”

Tears slid down my cheeks as I shook my head fervently.

“You can’t believe that.” I whispered.

“You hated that he chose me. You couldn’t just let me be happy, could you? You had to steal him away from me! Dangle your barely there goods and make him drool!”

I stared at her, unable to speak, unable to breathe even. She couldn’t mean what I thought, I had to be wrong. I had to be wrong.

“Jessica, Kirk…Kirk raped me.”

Pain flared white hot, blinding me. My cheek burned from the impact of her hand. Yet I couldn’t cry. Shock filled me, but I couldn’t cry.

“That’s your story, you little slut.” Her eyes flared with hatred as she raised her hand again.

The blow grazed off my raised forearm hard enough to knock me back. My breath whooshed out of me as she jumped on me, straddling me.

“He still talks about you, you know. Says what a sorry lay you were.” Her face was inches from mine, her breath hot on my face.

“You know what else he says?” She baited me.

I whimpered, too weak to fight her off, too broken to care.

“He says he’s going to do it again. And next time, he’ll bring friends.” She shoved me deeper into the bed, causing me to cry out in pain.

My agony made her laugh, a hard, bitter sound. She climbed off me and moved to the door.

“You’re pathetic, just like your mother. No wonder Daddy Dearest killed her.”

The door clicked shut behind her. The only sound in the room the ticking of the clock and my pounding heart.

Slowly I rose from the bed, each move an agony, and walked to the dresser. My reflection stared back at me. Who was this person? Who was this sad, pathetic, broken little girl before me? Limp hair and hollow eyes stared back at me.

In my mind I screamed at hear. Why didn’t she stand up for herself? Why didn’t she fight back?

“Where’s your God now?”

The memory of those words made me flinch and cry out. I fell to the floor, my body overcome by shudders. On the verge of hysteria I crawled back to the bed, my sanctuary, and climbed into it. Pulling the covers over my head I closed my eyes and shut out the world.

********************

I slipped out of bed as the early pre-dawn light kissed the windows. Squatting down, I pulled my backpack from under my bed. Across the room, Jessica snorted and rolled over. Quietly I crept to the dresser. I’m not staying here any longer, I thought as I started stuffing clothes into my backpack.

Jeans, socks, underwear, sweaters, I shoved it all into my bag. I hesitated as my hand brushed my mother’s letter. Her final words to me. Blinking, I grabbed it and shoved it into the bag.

Somewhere, anywhere, had to be better than another moment here. I looked up, caught by my reflection. I stared at myself, my long hair unkempt, but it was my eyes that caught my attention. A spark, though tiny, glowed within them. Maybe I wasn’t so broken after all.

As the rest of the house awoke, ready to start their day I went through the motions. Comb your hair, brush your teeth, eat breakfast, ignore Kirk, avoid Jessica; all the while thinking, plotting, planning.

“Ashley! You’d better get a move on! You’ll miss the bus.” Margret snapped her fingers before me, shaking her head. “What is with you lately?” She muttered, shuffling away.

Quickly I downed my orange juice, grabbed my bag and darted outside. My feet slapped against the pavement as I ran toward the bus stop. I’d made it out of the house before Kirk and Jessica, now I just needed to make it to the bus stop. Then I could disappear.

A low rumble sounded behind me. I glanced over my shoulder as the yellow bus lumbered up the street.

“No, no, no!” Panting I pushed harder, my legs pumping. The bus shuddered to a stop. Mena and Theresa climbed on, little Benny behind them. With a squeak the doors slid closed and the bus rumbled away in a cloud of exhaust.

“Shit.” I kicked the ground, bending over and placing my hands on my knees as I sucked in air. It didn’t matter. It only meant more walking. Squaring my shoulders I hitched my bag up higher and started on.

A breeze teased my face, playing its fingers through my hair. For the first time in my life I felt light, free.

“Want a ride?”

Instantly my skin went cold, tight. I stopped in my tracks, my heart pounding as I turned. Kirk and Jessica stared out at me from the Jeep. Kirk wore a light, teasing smile, his eyes sliding over my body.

“Looking good, Ash.” He winked.

“Ugh, let’s go, Kirk. Look at her, she’s shaking. Pathetic.” Jessica flipped her hair over her shoulder, turning from me.

“Just let her walk, Babe. I’ll make it worth your while.” She purred, leaning closer.

I watched in disgust as his eyes darkened, his color rose.

“See you at school, Ash.”

Kirk licked his lips at me, an obscene gesture, then gunned the engine and sped off down the street. My body shook as I watched the Jeep disappear.

Bastard, that bastard!

Fury fueled my steps as I started forward. How could he? How could I? Why did I let him do this to me? My nails bit into my palms as I raced down the sidewalk, my backpack slapping against me.

Thump, thump, thump.

Tears poured down my cheeks. This is it. My chance. I didn’t need Margaret with her rapist son. I didn’t need Jessica. Bipolar bitch.

Concrete gave way to dirt, and dirt to grass before I stopped, lungs burning. I looked around, wiping tears and snot from my cheeks. I didn’t have to wonder where I was. How I’d made it across town so quickly was beyond me.

For late August the air was still warm, Summer still had her claws in the season, refusing to release it to Autumn. The grass was springy beneath my feet as I made my way. Sunlight glinted off the plaques, the scent of flowers tinged the air. Color ran rampant here, in this place of quiet and loss.

I blinked when my feet stopped. I stared down at the headstone, my pulse thrumming in my ears.

“Here lies Lilly Elizabeth Jones, Loving wife and Mother.”

"Loving?" I snorted, rage boiling inside me. "If you were loving you would have left that monster!" I shouted at the slate gray headstone.

I wanted to kick it, hit it, tear it apart. Something; anything to dull the pain and rage. But broken toes would do me no good. I paced in front of the headstone anger ruling my thoughts.

"Why didn't you leave him Mom? Why did you freaking stay? You knew what kind of monster he was! You should have been able to see how black his damn soul was! Why did you stay?"

"Why didn't you love me enough to take me away? Why weren't you strong enough to walk away and save yourself!?"

I sank to my knees, the grass damp with early morning dew. My chest heaved as I cried. Fists balled I pounded the ground.

"It’s your fault! All of it! Him killing you, me being molested, raped. Tortured! How could you leave me here like this!” Throwing back my head I screamed. I screamed out my rage, my panic, my pain, my loss. I screamed until I was afraid I wouldn’t quit.

I grabbed great handfuls of grass and tugged. The lush lawn ripped free of the ground, dirt caked under my nails. I hurled the handfuls of ground at the headstone.

My body spent I fell over, sobbing. I curled up against the cold stone, shaking with my tears.

“He hurt me, mommy. He hurt me so bad. I’m so lost.”

The sun crept higher in the sky, birds sang and squirrels danced. In the distance I heard the steady thrum of cars. Blips of rock, rap and Jazz filtered to me. A leaf slithered on the wind, twisting and twirling before slapping me in the face. The shock brought me out of my stupor. I unwound myself from the headstone, wincing at the stiffness.

Slowly I got to my feet, shouldered my bag and stared at the headstone.

Here lies Lilly Elizabeth Jones.

”Why didn't you leave?" I whispered, suddenly exhausted. "Why didn't you just leave?"