The Bird & The Beast

Chapter 3

Her mother was a good woman, though many would protest that and look down at her with disgust.

Her mother was a prostitute.

The little girl squeezed her eyes shut, leaning her head against the wall and trying to ignore the sounds coming from the other room. How she longed to go outside, to get far away from the house. But that was forbidden. It wasn't safe for a little girl to roam the streets at night alone.

Especially a little girl like her. Not. . .wholly a little girl. A halfling, with a demon for a father and an immortal for a mother.

Her nights were always the same, for as long as she remembered. Her mother more often than not had her clients brought to the house. She was too ill to make the trip to the brothel, but her employer paid her faithfully, regardless that most of her clients weren't any of his.

Men of all different cultures and backgrounds had come in and out of the little girl's life, though none of them stayed for more than a day.

Some of them scared her. The little girl had learned appearances meant nothing. Even the well-dressed, well-groomed men had touched her. Most of them were more vile than the poorly dressed, smelly men.

Her mother was always quick to intervene, and the girl saw what they did not. Saw her mother's hand dart to the hidden blade she kept strapped to her thigh, just beneath the fabric of her jeans or dress.

Her mother loved her. And the little girl understood if the clients went away, every good thing they had would crumble away.

So, she endured the men touching her until her mother stopped them. It was never for more than few seconds, but it felt so much longer. One day, she feared her mother would give up. Give up and let them do so much more, like the stories her half-brother taunted her with.

"Things are so bad, she'll eventually sell you to a man. You know that, right? It's all your fault. She'll come to her senses and sell you to the next client."  Those words were often followed by a sharp slap to the cheek. "And I pray to Benarch he's a demon. You're a worthless little piece of shite."

The little girl drifted off to sleep—the sounds of her brother's disapproving voice lingering in her head, mixed with a woman's moans and a man's grunts, and a rattling bed.

********

"Bella, how are you today?" Kevin Yvenne smiled kindly at the little girl.

She peered at him through the crack of the door. She shrugged, wordlessly, giving him a shy smile.

"Can I come in? Is your mother busy?"

"Sleeping."

"Can I come in?" he asked.

She hesitated before opening the door further.

"Where's Chase?" Kevin asked, stepping in. "I brought you both something."

"Out." The little girl's eyes greedily searched him for any signs of the supposed gift. She hoped it was food. They hadn't eaten in a week. Or maybe it had been longer. The days were blurring. The more the years stretched on, the worse her mother got. And the worse her mother got, the less she could work.

Chase provided them with food now, whenever he could, but all Bella got were scraps. Their mother was sick more often than not now, feverish nearly all the time, and did not notice Chase's purposeful negligence towards his sister.

Kevin pulled a stick of licorice wrapped in plastic out of his coat pocket and handed it to her, smiling a bit sadly when she tore into it.

"May I see your mother, Bella?"