Salvation 2035

Prologue 4- Lost

『Tsuki』

     It's been about two-- no, three years since I first entered the brothel when I was twelve. I have to say, it isn't as bad as it has been, lately. Or maybe I've just gotten used to it? I don't really know. Usually, about every two months, someone will pay... for me. Since I'm young, people pay extra to be with me-- at least that's what Cromwell says. It's pretty high, too, so it's not like people are coming here every day looking for me. Well, they do come looking for me, but it's not for sex. It's not that bad. Most of the time I'm either just standing around or serving drinks. What's fairly common is that I'll have to dance or spend time with them, but I get tips for that so it isn't the worst thing in the world. Yeah, I hate every second of it, but it's not like I have much of a choice. They usually want to take it further than touching me over my clothes, so they end up going to the front desk, realizing they don't have enough cash and are either never seen again, settle for one of the other workers, or somehow come up with the money.

    I wish that one day someone would barge in that place and let us all go. I mean, don't get me wrong, it's pretty safe for what it is. There are people here that are legitimately employed and want to be in this... line of work. It's just that there's a handful of us that are trapped here. The others are free to travel about the city-- the country, even, while me, Lindy, and the others have no choice. It's not like the people that aren't criminals are mean to us or anything like that either. They probably don't have much of a clue since we're not allowed to tell them about why we're here. We all just make some bullshit excuse if they ever ask. Oh, right, Lindy says I'm not supposed to swear.

     During the day I have tons of free time, though. It's really nice-- I get to do pretty much whatever. I draw, watch TV, listen to music, draw, and play outside, but I have to do at least one page of these workbooks each day. Reading and writing is okay, I guess, but math sucks. Do people actually like this stuff? Maybe it's because I'm not very smart. If I was in school, I think I'd be in the ninth grade, but I'm doing work made for sixth graders. But I can guarantee that I'm better at fixing cars and motorcycles than anybody my age, so maybe that makes up for my stupidity in other subjects. I'm good at art too, but I guess it depends on who's judging it. I like to draw cities and places I've seen in movies. I wish I could visit them for real.

     I used to have some friends from one of the nearby schools, but I don't think they'd want to hang out with me. Lindy got a part-time job at a retail store so that when this is all over, she can better transition into the actual workforce, so I don't see her that much during the day. I mean, she probably wouldn't want to play with me anyways. I found an empty parking lot about ten minutes away that's perfect for practicing soccer. I bought a longboard, so it's easier to go to and from the apartment. Lindy has let me go gradually further from the building ever since I turned thirteen. Our building is right between the border of the low-class and middle-class parts of the city. I'd have to take a bus to get to the rich people's area, but I don't really want to do that anyway. The middle-class area is generally pretty safe, so I hang out there more often. It is the smallest out of the three, though.

     The weather is actually nice for a change. It's just warm enough that you can go outside with a hoodie and shorts and it'll be alright. I grab my longboard and soccer ball and head outside. I already finished my homework, so I deserve this! At this time of the year, other kids would be in school, so I can't go and use any of their fields, so that's why I go to the lot. From time to time, older people ask me why I'm not in class, so I just say that I'm homeschooled. It's easier that way than actually explaining my situation. I put on my sneakers and head out.