"Miss Aloura?" I called when I walked in the familiar house smelling just like before - of human blood and absinthe, the drink I'd had so long ago.
I saw many women lined up in front of a door. One walked out groaning and clutching her stomach. She looked to be in pain.
"MISS ALOU-"
"HEY, QUIET OUT THERE. WAIT YOUR TURN!" A hoarse voice croaked. It seemed to belong to Miss Aloura.
I pushed past all the women despite the protests and burst in her "office". She had a woman lying there on the floor with her legs in the air, blood shooting out of her vagina in squirts.
"Get out! I'm busy for goodness' sake!" Miss Aloura still looked the same. Her face was maybe a little bit older and more wrinkley.
"Miss Aloura it's me! Tali Buscarino! Has Mr Buscarino come round asking for me? I need to see him, I miss him so much and I missed you a lot too and I'm so-"
Miss Aloura interrupted me by shoving me outside and shutting the door in my face.
It seemed like she didn't remember me.
And Mr Buscarino had clearly not come looking at all.
No one cared about me enough to look for me after abandoning me.
No one cared to remember me.
YOU ARE READING
Sell Some Lives
Historical FictionIt's 1894... or is it 1904? The years blur together until Tali loses the way to go. Until the future seems far too ugly to imagine. Will her life ever take a turn for the better? Or for the worst...
