Sell Some Lives

Red Cotton

It was three o'clock when we arrived; the train hissing into a loud station with steel buttresses. The doors opened and my new master dragged me outside.

"Where are we? Buscarino where are we? Master? Where are we? Where are we going? Where ar-"

"Will you shut up? People are staring. Come on, we're nearly there." Buscarino hissed, pinching my leg.

The factory was at the south end of town, by the river, near the railway station. As we walked, wet sheets flapped in my face, because i was still on a piggyback on Buscarino's shoulders. The streets were so narrow the sheets easily strung over the lines across the cobbles and dripped on me so by the time we got to the factory I was soaked and shivering. 

"STOP snivelling. It's getting on my nerves." My master suddenly threw me down in front of the tall factory gates and glared at me. I stood up slowly, glaring back. 

"Go inside then... Don't worry I'll come with you." He pushed the gates open and pushed me in too.

We walked up to the square six story high building with its dirty smoking chimneys; across the yard and through the doors. It was dark inside and smelt hot and horrible.

"Eighty degrees hot fresh cotton. This is the cotton mill Tali." My master said proudly, spreading his arms wide.

I decided I hated the cotton mill. 

"I don't work here of course. I just supply opium and whatever else. I'll be out of here in an hour or so once you've settled in — but don't worry, I have my people to supervise you!" 

Mr Buscarino (he told me to call him mister as it was a courtesy title) made me take my shoes and socks off at the doors and leave them on a rack with many other equally scuffed, muddy shoes.

"All the floors are drenched in oil, it's to protect them. Also you'd hate a splinter. I got ones all over my feet when I worked here... but that was long ago. Now we need to find the manager. He will give you your uniform... I'll have to pull a few strings. He owes me anyway."

He steered me up and down corridors at a fast pace, until we reached an office.

"Harvey! I need a cap and apron. I'll have to ask you to take on my new girl, Toni... Tanya. She's six years old, and a hard worker... we might have to start her as a spooler." Mr Buscarino said authoritatively. 

"No." The frail man behind the desk didn't even look up as he said it. He was wearing little glasses and his face was pinched. When he stood up, I saw his feet were bare too.

"We don't take on girls under nine, Bus, I'm sorry. You'll have to sell her off to a pimp or something... she's not very pretty though." 

"Boy if you don't- 

I didn't come here for you to turn me away at the door. I have all sorts of evidence to expose you. I know what you do to your little workers..." Mr Buscarino snapped and started dragging my dress over my head, ripping all the buttons.

I covered myself with my hands and stepped back.

"Where the uniforms? Don't just stand there! Show me the storeroom!" He shouted.

So I got my own floppy white cap, ugly blouse and skirt and white apron.

"Now hurry up and pee." Mr Buscarino had barged into the toilets with me!

All the girls were shouting indignantly. 

A hand reached through the gap in the door and grabbed Mr Buscarino by his shirt and pulled him outside. 

I sighed in relief.

"What an awful man! Is he your father?" One of the girls asked. She was glaring the most.

"I don't have a father. He's my master." I said, trying to make my way to the sink. 

"So why are you here then? If you've got an employer already?" She asked curiously. 

"I don't know." I shrugged.

The other girls were all ignoring me. This one turned away too and started brushing her long brown hair and twisted it into a bun. I turned away and started trying to sort out my own hair. I didn't have anything to tie it with.

"Do you need help with your hair?" The girl said and I felt something sharp at the back of my neck. Maple brown curls fell to the floor in tufts.

There was a shocked silence then murmuring. 

I just stared at the sharp blade of the razor. I touched the back of my head. Then I flew at my attacker and pulled the razor out of her hands. I started slashing at her face, digging in deep. Someone tried to pull me away. Many people.

I clung on, holding the girls sharp jaw, cutting her face red.