Empty Corpse of a Hound

Chapter 5

"Oh my goodness, that's so cute!" I hold a painting of pink and yellow tulips into my mother's face, watching as her whole being lights up.
"I love you Lena" My mother scoops me into her arms, letting me watch as she sets the painting onto the mantle.
"I love you too mama"
"Lena?" I tilt my head, eyes wide as her face contorts into darkness.
"Lena! Breakfast!" Ela is shaking me awake, her face innocent and worried, I wonder how much they paid for her.
With that thought I want to throw up in my mouth, imagining this child get her innocence taken away.
Imagining all these children get their innocence taken away- I wonder what they would have looked and acted like if life didn't screw them over.
I want to ask Ela how long she's been here- if she's 11 now-
Maria greets me with a cheerful "Good morning, Lena" as she stands at the stove, her hair sitting in a poofy manner on top of her head.
"Is there a bathroom here?" I blurt out. "Hm? If you need to use the restroom ask Liam or Lia, they can take you down to the outhouse" Outhouse. Before I would have been repulsed by even the thought, but now- after being on the streets for years- It's luxury for me.
"Good morning children!" Lia staggers in, shooting me a look as I reluctantly say good morning back with everyone else. 
"Uh- Lia-"
"It's Mrs to you"
She's… Married?
"Mrs- Could I use the outhouse?"
She raises an eyebrow, her eyes narrowing in suspicion, clearly not happy with my sudden request.
"Fine” I grin, grateful for any opportunity of relief. I make my way to the back of the building, escorted by Lia. The building is old and dirty, with a musty smell that lingers in the air far after you've left.
The outhouse is a small, dark room with a wooden bench and a hole in the center. I sit down and release a sigh of relief. I can't help but think about my life before this. My mother, my home, my innocence. I never thought I would lose all of it, but here I am, living in this filth.
When I'm done, I wash my hands in the bucket of water next to the door. As I enter, I catch sight of Anastazja talking to Angelica with a tinge of red on her face- I wonder if it's just from helping Maria cook or something else.
August sits in the corner, black notebook in hand.
"What're you doing?" I ask the quiet boy, he glares at me, not answering my question.
"Okay then" I sat beside him, the moment reminiscent of the one from last night.
Last night.
I shake away the thought of last night, everything that happened- I feel dirty, gross, I feel his hands still on the parts of me that only the sun had once reached.
August slowly tilts his notebook over so I can see. He's drawing- Me.
Us, all of us, our faces squished together for warmth and comfort.
"I draw it every time a new one gets added" He explains, a faint smile on his lips- which quickly gets snatched away the moment Lia enters the room with the last girl.
"No more leaving today- You stay here" She groans, taking a lighter out of her pocket before shuffling away.
"No work on sundays- that's what Lia calls god's day- says it will make god forgive all her sins"
I'm glad August is actually speaking for once- his deeper, gravelly voice scares me a bit, but also reminds me faintly of my father- when he was around.
"Oh yeah- I should probably show you this" He turns the page to reveal my face- except this time… there's nobody else on the page, just me, and my choppy bob and dark eyes.
"I like drawing unique people" He flips a page to a drawing of Angelica, white hair and skin with red eyes. He flips the page again to show Ela, the girl that looks faintly of a baby deer. Flips again- Anastazja, with her bruises and muscular frame and fiery red hair. Finally Maria, her poofy black hair and dark skin splotched with white.
"Liam makes a point of getting the 'unique ones' Says it'll make people more eager to pay his fee"
Sick, it makes me sick.
"Do you ever draw yourself?" He looks appalled at my question, his eyes going wide before he shakes his head. "I find no use in being vain" I let out a laugh, he shoots me a look. "It's not vain, was Van Gogh vain for drawing himself?" "Well- No, but that's because he drew himself for what he truly saw- a mess" I place a hand on his shoulder, smiling at his interpretation of Van Gogh's art. "Then that's what you draw"
He nods, turning back to his sketchbook and flipping to a clean page and scribbling all over it before erasing intricate lines and details.
And what was left was a messy but detailed drawing of the boy in front of me, August.
"I want to get out of here- Get all of us out of here" His eyes glaze over, he wipes them with his sleeve.
It was normal for boys to think they couldn't cry- I had never seen my father cry when he was around.
I wonder why he left- where he went.
"Then let's get out of here"
"When?"
"Tonight"
His eyes go wide before he gives me a smile. "You are one daring girl Lena" I tilt my head to the side. "Is that a bad thing?"
"No, I like it"