The sound of cicadas.
The sound of birds chirping.
I can hear distant chortling. And I feel ardor. I am alive.
Although the hearing in my left ear is deafened, I am still able to hear the beautiful sounds nature makes. My heavy eyes squint at the scorching sun in front of me. All I’m surrounded in is grass and I am facing the sky, it is now the afternoon but I haven’t moved since last evening. So I blocked the sun with a hand as I felt my face with the other, there are a few bumps and sharp pain but at least its in tact. He didn’t find me. With that, it was as if the thought signaled for all the tension in my body to finally be relaxed, both the pain and relief slowly began to crept in almost unbearably amidst my triumph. But I was glad--euphoric even.
I began to laugh hysterically.
I didn’t die.
I didn’t fail.
But when I soon noticed my blooded bruised arm, my laughter slowly transitioned into a heavy breath, into a clench in my throat, and then a sob.
I didn’t want to cry but I did.
I survived.
I didn’t lose my one and only chance.
Before I knew it, I had been sobbing like a toddler in the middle of grass meadows. The phrase of being ‘ran over by a boulder’, perfectly describes how I’m physically feeling. It wasn’t my father’s actions that scared me the most, it was the thought of going through reincarnation again.If I had died then, I would be back to living in a another simulation without freedom and my soul, now and forever a property of that forsaken god. Contemplating on mistakes and how I’d been too complacent, I was confident in my calculations after all. I chose the safest routes but things still went wrong. It’s another kind of frustration when you think you have the upper-hand but really you don’t. Deflect, calculate, and bargain. Try as I might but one press of a button by the 7th and all my efforts are wasted. My crying went on for a quite some time before I eventually remembered that I still had a chore to finish. My sorrow got overshadowed by fear when I realized it’s the afternoon to where I was supposed to already have her fresh clothes then. The fear of another possible threat somehow gave me strength to get up. And I cursed as I dragged my wounded foot on the ground.
I hadn’t even noticed yesterday that the bear traps grazed me. A few cuts, inflations, an almost bloodshut teary eye, and a lot of bruises. I stared into my own deformed reflection in the river. If I counted internal injuries, there’s a few bone fractures as well, luckily not anything life threatening to my health except for a high fever that lapsed. Holding unto my side where my ribs hurt as I move, I slowly made my way to my tent. It was a treacherous journey making my way up the hills but alas I made it. I need to treat these injuries first before focusing on my chore. The few ointments I had in stock were now dried out but with a bit of water it’s back to its appropriate form, using it to soothe my bruises but I didn’t have anything for numbing and fever. I quickly went through a medical botanical manual I had previously stolen for a recipe and searched for the ingredients in the forest. There’s a few herbs for pain killers but not much luck in choices. Willow barks are too dry to be of use this season and the tree I found before is far from here and the meadow sweet is not in season. Considering the severity of my condition higher effective drug like morphine would numb and heal me quicker but I know it isn’t available here. So I opted for opium flowers instead which I’m certain is acquirable. Its near the meadows where they grow, I took the wilted pods which are dried for better use and brew a tea out of its seeds, pods, and ground an ointment for the rest to apply on my wounds. When I lifted my dress, I found even more bruising, it showed the maps my father made. I still can’t comprehend why he committed such abuse when I had been perfect as his child.
For my fever however, there was no option for me other than a damped cloth with cold water wrapped around my head to soothe my temperature. A tincture would be better but I’m in no condition to be stealing. I had just awoken from a full night and half a day of slumber only a few hours passed yet I am sleepy. My body tired within a few efforts, it had been too strained so I rested again even more but not for long because the pain refused to be usurped with comfort.
A good two hours perhaps, just before as the sun is setting, I managed to wake and so began my chore. The aching did not stop with my magic potions but at least it has now grown bearable, the most painful thing is the fever anyway.
When I reached home, it was no longer easy for me to simply barge in. My perception of it has changed. What if that man was inside as well?, my mind kept repeating until my heart pounded unnecessarily and my palms sweaty. Reluctance, assurance, or fear, I do not know which one has influenced me that my body grew wary of moving from hiding behind this tree even though I know that he isn’t home. I don’t want to make another threat out of mother. My hand clenched into a fist as I braced myself. I gritted my teeth and ran to the door as best I could even when limping, heart leaping out of my chest. It felt like I had only ran a second and got the basket and escaped.
The sun is setting but I only have to finish this. I sighed in relief knowing that I had successfully made it to the river. I’ve realized that if I just exert energy, my body doesn’t feel as tired and throbbing however the rubbing of clothes against my skin when I began washing them feels rough and uncomfortable. Depending on the quantity of clothes, mother’s laundry usually takes 2 hours for me to finish but I digress now to finish this batch before it fully gets dark where I could no longer see.
* **
“Are you sure you’re alright?”, her lady friend asks.
“I’m fine, Promenaide”, the woman could barely make out a sentence while she pants for air in between. In lounge for the whores, only the two of them were left, becoming increasingly late for a performance that they had to do for the morning. But it’s an emergency in regards to health, it couldn’t have waited any longer.
Squatted down and clutching harshly on her abdomen while her friend fidgets with her worry, assisting her back and fanning her. Anyone would be worried to have witnessed such torture.
“Come on--”, she heavily breaths in, her thighs having a tremor of a sort as she once again braised herself upon inserting her hand beneath her gown, trying to concentrate and persevere so that this time she may succeed in her act.
“Get out already!”
The act of aborting a fetus.
The woman coward her head and back to look under, her face drenched in sweat . An hour had already passed since she began a morning stressed. It merely started as a cramp but then the pain crept to her pelvic and she peed herself, then the poor parasite was due. The tunic she took worked but at a cause of unbearable suffering, it wasn’t voluntarily escaping which made it more grueling. She had gotten it before but it had slipped. Her cervix painfully pulsing, her vagina feeling bruised and it was most uncomfortable to have her long fingernails inside of her womanhood trying to reach for it, her own blood had sullied her gown and so her hands. She kept reaching while her pelvic labored, she knows it had already fallen. After another trail of blood and failed attempts trying to get it, now, she finally felt it in her grasp.
A sense of relief flushed her nerves and frustration for making her suffer, this time her grip is firm, she cared not for what she may hurt, no doubt it’s already dead anyway.
She held her breath as she pulled with all her might. “Urrghhh--GAH!”
A splash of urine, mucus, and blood, followed with a small thud. Her gasping for air as she surrenders on the floor. Finally, her turmoil ended and the room now without grunting and agonizing screams. The poor friend merely understood but pitied her.
“I’ll ready a bath for you”, nodding her head as she left.
She glared at her friend as her back was turned, she despised being perceived as pitiful. But at least she’s useful, now she wouldn’t have to clean up the mess all by herself. The woman finally relaxed. She looked down at her congenitally malformed fetus, it is just about the size of her palm within comparison to a piece of bread. Grabbing one of her sullied towels, she wraps the thing so she wouldn’t have to look at it again. Unlike the rest of her abortions, this one looked the ugliest, you cannot even tell that it is an offspring. The floor was a bloodied mess, she’ll have to ask the errands to thoroughly clean it later.
After a slothful clean up,she barely managed to get in the bath her friend made before passing out. Every inch of her body was agonizing, that throbbing pain from her head down to her thighs. The life of a whore was as sad as they say.
…
“Hey, wake up. I’ve already cleaned the room for you so you won’t have to”, she was awaken by the light tapping on her shoulder. She doesn’t know how much time had passed but she realized she was still in the bath, now it had gone cold.
“I’ve also disposed of ‘it’ for you”, her friend reassured. She slowly got up while massaging her head.
“Yes, thank you”, she sighed deeply. “I’ll get going now”, the friend gleefully smiled and left to which she merely rolled her eyes before prepping herself. Ever since she slept with that woman, she had been on her tail since. But it is times at like these where she is most useful, whatever she put in that bath must have been a lot of medicine for her to be soothed this quickly. The pain was still there but no longer as exhausting.
She wished to simply skip work but the madame is here so she couldn’t, at least she’s only going to be entertaining today. The morning had just gotten busier as the village awoke while she sits in front of her vanity spraying perfume, it is still early so she didn’t feel like putting on makeup. This whore didn’t need any make up. Once she’s dressed, she went outside to where the others were. They should be done performing by now. There was still some discomfort in between her legs when she walked but only for the main time, once she digests more anesthetic drug it’ll all be gone.
She got out of her quarters, it was but a regular day for everyone else getting ready for work no one knowing the trouble she had just suffered. But as she greeted the other ladies who were gathered outside of the brothel, in her peripheral, she spotted a familiar figure around the corner of the walls. She wondered for a second but she was sure of it, no one else around here has hair as dark a color. It made her day easier as she was just about to look for her anyway.
When she turned to the walls, the whore found her child who had just escaped, frozen where she landed from her jump knowing she had been caught. She knows that the brat skips work but she didn’t think it would be this often, no wonder why she gets so many complaints. Her anger fumed as her child’s eyes widened when she realized it was her mother who saw. With a gesture of her hand, she stood command and her troublesome child glared at her. So she quickly went and to put her in her place.
*SMACK!*
Her breath stressed once she relieved her temper. And if it was any normal day, she would’ve cared more. She sighed and massaged her temple as she calms down.
“Good lords, Luma, must you keep being a prick?”,she gritted her teeth as she said. If she had more energy, she’d love to beat some discipline into her. All she managed was dragging the brat back inside and to her room. Since she’s spotted her first she didn’t need to be hassled with looking for her now there’s less chores to handle. She threw her bag of laundry to her child.
“If you’re just going to skip work, you better make use of it. I need these by afternoon tomorrow”,she demanded expecting defeat, only to be met with the color of her own eyes piercing back at her. The woman got felt chills.
Folks do say she takes after her as if it’s a compliment but only because they are glad the child didn’t take after any of their husbands in the village, if not for her hair which she got from her father, she could have just been anyone’s bastard. If she had wished, she could have gotten rid of her in her womb as she’s done with the rest but her body started rejecting the contraceptive drugs then. She loathed that comparison, the mere thought of having a version of herself. It’s her child but why must it get on her nerves so much?
After her benefit, she turned her back and left, glad that she is on her way. It just so happened that the madame was near by. “Madame!”, she gleefully called out. What is this old hag going to scold her for, now?
“Ah! There you are my dear, I was just about to fetch for you. I have good news!”, the madame exclaimed which she didn’t expect.
“Yes, madame? What is it?”, as she broke away from the madame’s hug.
“Where is your child? Is she working?”, it--she, gleefully searched behind her.
“Y-yes, currently. Why?”, the whore lied.
“Oh! She has a bright future ahead of her. Many of my customers loved her performance, they couldn’t get enough of her. They requested for her to join them on an official service!”. Just as the madame was getting more excited with her news, the mother couldn’t hide her deemed expression.
“A group servitude…but madame, this is her first. She’s only a child after all”, she tried to reason. It brought back a memory of her that she wished never to recall.
“You know how I feel about group servitudes, I--”
“Oh yes I know, my dear. But she is around the ripe age. The sooner she gets the experience, the sooner she’ll get used to it”. She shut her eyes and cursed herself when she remembered that she had lied about her daughter’s age to the madame. The ripe age considered is 10, she said she was 8 but she is actually…what, 6 or 4? Probably in between that. The mother guessed, which is certainly far from the ripe age. She is a lot smaller than most 8 year olds.
She turned silent but the madame grabbed her hands to reassure her.
“These gentlemen are aristocrats and noblemen who came from far away. They must know how to handle a young and they’ll pay handsomely”, she shook her hands laughing.
“I’ve also offered the rule that only the highest bidder can have her, so it’s not really a group servitude but more for their entertainment, hm?”, the old hag pleaded but the mother was even more disturbed.
“I-I’ll think about it madame. I’ll inform you once I’ve brought the news to my child”, she forced a smile. Now, her headache is back.
“Good! Bring her to me so I can also educate her!”, the madame lifted her hands in joy before letting go and leaving with the rest of her staff.
And all the poor mother could do was stare behind their backs feeling even the more conflicted. She have done most of the work in years living as a whore but group servitude was what she always tried to avoid. She knows that one man can be more slefish than the last once they have desired.
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