Beneath the Surface

Chapter 35 - Past stays in the past

Joseph Smith

The darkened allyways surround where I walk. Streetlights have long been gone as I entered the district with only red lights, trying to follow the man in black, knowing his way far too well in such area.

Another turn to the right, then one to the left as windows fill the sides of red-bricked buildings. Some have their curtains closed, others are presenting women in barely any clothes, dancing and biting their lips in ways to seduce men and be able to pay their rent.

I felt like an outsider, only twelve years old, I shouldn't be here anytime soon, propaby never, yet I am determined to find out where the dark silhouette is going to. Which girl he will choose for tonight.

Another turn to the left and he slows down his pace. I hide behind the wall for a bit untill a peek around the corner and see him entering a building. I turn the building and walk over to the house with mostly older women. 

I thought he preferenced those younger than him? Why would he-?

I stop where I stand in front of a window, curtains open and a small, fragile girl to be seen behind it. A man is unpatiently sitting in a chair behind her, shouting at her as she tries to seduce men atleast twice her age to pay her.

My father enters the room, opening his black leather wallet and throwing a few fifty-dollar bills on the red velvet carpeted floor around the pole where she stops dancing to close the curtain, blocking my view.

The girl looked so young, maybe even younger than me. Her hair so long and beautifully brown. Bright red lips and pink eyeshadow. She wore a neon pink lingerie set, fishnet tights in a similar color and knee-high stilletto heels.

She looked tired, underfed, perhaps. I couldn't stop worrying about her well-being. The way my father knew exactly where he was going thaught me he came here often. He was her regular.

I wanted to just break through the window, push him of of her helpless body and tell her everything will be okay. I wanted to hold her in my arms and little did my tiny body know, four years later I am carrying her in my arms, upto her room to put her to bed after a very steamy car ride home. After our very first fight.

"Shhh, it's okay, you can fall asleep, I am here and I won't hurt you. I will never hurt you again.", my words soothed her yet I couldn't promise to myself that what I said was true. I held her closely in my arms, her body warm. First thing in the morning would be a shower to wash of tonight's tearse and sweat.

"Wake me if you have a bad dream again, okay?", she asks me and I respond with a kiss on her temple. I make her the little spoon as I wrap my legs around her body, still helpless in this cruel world.

"I will.", I tell her. "Pinky promise?", her pretty voice asks me. Pinky promise, a thing I had thaught her to teach her trust. I saw her at the concert, the same girl my dad helped shatter. I just couldn't let her be out there in this big world without help, I needed to take her under my wing and make sure no man ever gets to her again.

But I have come to learn that by having her so close, a place I thought would keep her safe, I brought her to the source of danger itself, my father.

"Didn't she recognise him the night I brought her home? It is better she never finds out enough about my past, it shouldn't concern her.", are thoughts I speak in my head only. They are too dangerous to be sounded out.

Her heavy breathing alerts me she has fallen asleep in my arms, holding her tight and safe against my own body still recovering from our first time. Her first time. My first time.