Chapter 2 The Beginning

Gwen's POV

Eight months ago, I roamed the streets after running away from the orphanage home. I couldn't stand the maltreatment and constant harassment from Mr Grant any more. I just turned 18, and he is bent on sleeping with me. Every night, he would come into my room and try to force me to sleep with him. I always manage to escape hitting him in the head with something. In the morning, he would lie to everyone that he forgot how low the door was and hit his head on his way into the big hall.

While on the street, I knew I needed to find a way to earn some money to feed myself. So I went from restaurant to restaurant, offering to wash the dishes for them just to get some money for food. At night, I go to the train station and sneak into one of the carriages for the night. Days that I am caught, I just keep roaming the streets till morning.

This went on for a while until one day, I was walking down the street late, hungry. All through the day, I couldn't get any work done, so no money. I heard someone cry. I slowed down my walking pace and headed in that direction. I realised the cry was coming from behind a building, which was not far away from the quiet street. I drew closer and decided to peek. I saw a man harassing a woman. She almost looks like my age. I recalled how Mr Grant constantly harassed me at the orphanage. I looked around for something I could use. My gaze fell on a metal rod lying next to a bin behind the building. I grabbed it and tiptoed towards the place where the man was harassing the lady. His back was facing me. When I got close, without giving it much thought, I hit the back of his head with the metal rod, and he fell to the ground, freeing the girl. She screamed and was about to run away from me.

"It's okay. I am Gwen White. I just want to help," I said.

"He is my boyfriend, you jerk," she yelled at me, closing her skirt button.

"I am sorry, I thought he was harassing you. I came to help when I heard you cry," I tried to explain.

"I wasn't crying," she yelled at me, and quickly went down to check on the man while I stood there waiting to hear what she was saying after the check.

"Oh my god, you killed him," she announced and stood up to her feet.

"Is he dead? I asked, suddenly frightened. I dropped the metal rod in my hand and took a step back.

"Let's get out of here," the lady said to me, but I was frozen to my spot, staring at the man on the ground, lying on his side.

The lady grabbed my arm and pulled me as she walked away from the body. We had barely left the place when we heard a hoarse voice.

"You whore, came back here. You have not finished paying me what you owe me," I paused and looked back.

The man we thought was dead was sitting on the ground with his hand behind his head. He gradually stood to his feet, and we ran out of the place.

"Run," the girl said to me and started running.

I looked back one more time, and I saw the man was hurrying his steps heading in our direction. My heart skipped multiple beats. I was glad he was alive, though. I started running, heading in the same direction as the lady. She kept making some turns through places I had no idea were part of the city. I kept following, not sure where we were running to. Occasionally, I look back to check if the man was still after us. I looked again, and he was no longer after us.

"I think he is gone," I yelled, half panting.

"What did you say?" she screamed back.

"I said, I think he is gone," I repeated and paused, catching my breath.

"We can't stop. We need to get to a safe place. Follow me," She said.

"No more running. I haven't eaten since morning. I don't have any more strength in me," I complained.

"We don't need to run again. Just follow me," she said, and we walked down a street.

The place was very quiet, but as we proceeded, I heard a faint noise. The noise got louder as we kept heading in the same direction. Finally, we came to a huge building. I read the sign, and it says Girls Girls.

"This is a safe place," she said.

I looked at the place and wondered what they do inside.

"I am Amanda, by the way," She introduced. "You said you are Gwen, right?" she said, smiling.

"Yes," I replied.

"Anyway, sorry for yelling at you back there. And thank you for saving me," she said.

"But what was he doing to you?" I asked.

"I owe him a lot of money, and that was a way of paying my debt off. Offering free service," Amanda said, and I just stared at her.

"Hey, don't look at me like that. I have to pay my bills. I am just using what I have to get what I need," she said, and I stared at her, shocked. "Come with me, I work here," she said.

"Wait," I said, realizing the place was for hookers.

"Don't be scared. Not all the girls working there are hookers. Some are strippers. Meaning, looky, no touchy. Some also just wait for people. How old are you?" she asked.

"I8 years," I replied.

"Have you been with a man before?" she asked me, and I shook my head.

"Okay," Amanda said and stopped, making me stop too. "With your figure, you can pass for a 16-year-old. I will introduce you to the madam. Just tell her you are 16. She will employ you as a waitress. You are pretty. Your face will attract men with chips," she said, and I wondered what that meant.

"You saved me, so I am helping you. I have seen you a couple of times. So I know you are homeless," she said to my surprise.

Before I could ask a question, she dragged me into the club and pulled me through the crowd, and we ended up in front of a door. She knocked and we both entered. Lucky for me, it rained in the morning, so I had a chance to shower using the rainwater.

Amanda opened the door, and we both entered. It was a small room, but big enough to accommodate a huge desk, something that looked like a shelf, but it was filled with so many bottles and an L-shaped red couch. There was a man with a woman sitting on his lap. And behind the desk was a lady, she looked like someone in her fifties, but she had her hair shaved and tattoos, and piercings like a teenager.

The place looked very creepy, with images of women in bikinis posing in weird styles posted all around the room. Right next to the huge desk was a standing thick metal net board with handcuffs hanging on either side. My gaze returned to the woman behind the desk, who had her head buried in smoke; one would think something inside her head was burning, and we needed to call the fire service asap.

The door closed behind us, and my heart skipped multiple beats. Tension clothed me like a blanket, as the woman behind the desk and the man with the lady sitting on the couch, all stared at us like we were in the wrong place.