dieceotso

When I wake up, I'm gasping for air. Hectic. I don't even know why. But something is wrong. Not at all. My heart is beating too fast and my head is forcing me to get up. Something is driving me. The fog of powerlessness hasn't even cleared yet, makes my movements shaky and yet I know one thing: I have to leave my hut. It all happens automatically. As if my subconscious knows more than I do. And when I turn the handle and the freezing cold surrounds me, I also realize where I have to go. To the brothel.

And that's exactly what makes me think of my confrontation with Zaret. That my rapist is dead. that I laughed And again I am filled with joy. But not only. There's also the thought of Claire. To Zaret last words. He wants to pay me back. Wants to avenge my laughter at the death of his friend. And there's nothing holding me anymore.

I start running immediately. Don't even check if my door is locked. It does not matter. I have to go to Zaret. To Claire. It is dark. Only the silver glow of the moon illuminates the streets. But I don't even need this. I know the way inside and out. And so it doesn't bother me this time that tears blur my vision. But these are not coming from sadness or anger this time. No, only the wind created by running ensures that. No more and no less.

It's strange how much the fear that something might happen to Claire drives me forward. Blood sticks to my chin. That shows the exciting skin, but even that is only half noticed by me. But what I realize are the passing houses, the doors and the alleys. The tiredness is gone. Yes, not even my limbs seem like lead anymore. The wind whistles in my ears and shows how fast I'm going. But one thought drives me forward: I have to see if Claire is okay. It's possible that Zaret didn't go to her at all, but went somewhere else. But he could also be with her. They hit. Make Claire pay for my actions. I couldn't stand it. I can live with it if someone dies because of my actions. But not her. Not my last stop in my life. Claire is good at heart. Yes, even sometimes too nice for the world and I've often wondered how such a person can survive in the gutter. But she's alive. Always listen to me and the other girls too. Everyone deserves to incur Zaret's wrath. Everyone except Claire. And now I'm to blame for something happening to her? Just that thought is enough to make my heart heavier. I could never forgive myself for that. And so I run even faster. stumble Cases. jump up I don't care if my knees are scraped. I have to go to the brothel. Quickly. And finally the hut appears in front of me. The light from the lit candles flickers out of the windows. Always listen to me and the other girls too. Everyone deserves to incur Zaret's wrath. Everyone except Claire. And now I'm to blame for something happening to her? Just that thought is enough to make my heart heavier. I could never forgive myself for that. And so I run even faster. stumble Cases. jump up I don't care if my knees are scraped. I have to go to the brothel. Quickly. And finally the hut appears in front of me. The light from the lit candles flickers out of the windows. Always listen to me and the other girls too. Everyone deserves to incur Zaret's wrath. Everyone except Claire. And now I'm to blame for something happening to her? Just that thought is enough to make my heart heavier. I could never forgive myself for that. And so I run even faster. stumble Cases. jump up I don't care if my knees are scraped. I have to go to the brothel. Quickly. And finally the hut appears in front of me. The light from the lit candles flickers out of the windows. And so I run even faster. stumble Cases. jump up I don't care if my knees are scraped. I have to go to the brothel. Quickly. And finally the hut appears in front of me. The light from the lit candles flickers out of the windows. And so I run even faster. stumble Cases. jump up I don't care if my knees are scraped. I have to go to the brothel. Quickly. And finally the hut appears in front of me. The light from the lit candles flickers out of the windows.

But this time the sight isn't enough to make me stop. Zaret would go far for his revenge. Would snatch Claire from me. I'm aware. And so I have to see her. Only then can I stop. Give my lungs a rest. This burns like fire in my upper body. Seems to want to sink me inside. But I know that too well from the last few days. It's a pain I can take What I would never endure would be the marks on Claire's skin.

That she is tormented by Zaret because of me. That would probably break my back. She would probably ask me to tend her wounds. Then I would use the sponge to remove her blood. Would put a cream on the bruises. listen to her. Bear the pain in her voice and dry the tears. And every second something inside me would die. There would be no way out. I should be there for her and yet it would all be my fault. Any fist of Zaret that hit her body was meant for me. And no matter how much burden I carry on my shoulders, I don't want to put it on myself.

And so I storm into the hut. Again the smell of lemon spreads. But not only. Sweat and alcohol can also be clearly heard. But that's normal at this time. The men come to us from the pub and want to relieve pressure. Afterwards they lie down next to their sleeping wives and when they wake up they regret their decision to have spent money on prostitutes. They often come the next day and want their coins back. Scream wildly. But that's not important either. Shouldn't be of any concern to me right now. But as loud as the blood rushes in my ears, the muffled moans are not covered. This can be heard from some rooms. And where there are no pleasurable sounds, the girls laugh here and there. Are you happy. And with that I miss the time when I was just a prostitute too. God, I didn't know how much worse it could get.

"Kalota, what are you doing here?" Pete is just stepping out of a room. His hair is tousled and his cheeks smeared pink show he's cheated on his wife yet again. But I ignore him, just stare at the door at the end of the hallway. This one is closed. That means there's a customer. Claire has a client right now. This thought drives me on and so I want to push past Pete. He's a stocky person. Almost too fat for our neighborhood. Covered up by it I've walked most of the narrow hallway, making it difficult to get past him, but I try anyway, pushing past him, driven by the fear that's tightening in my chest.

"You mustn't be here. By God, how many times do I have to tell you that," he grumbles and grabs my upper arm. I immediately shake my head and tear myself away from him with a strong jerk. And it works. Pete's hand disappears from me and so I force I am now completely past him. I am aware that there will be consequences for my actions. Pete is not used to us girls rebelling against him. That's probably why he just gasped in disgust when I finally got to him left behind me. Nevertheless I want to give him an explanation why I don't stay away from the brothel.

"I just want to see Claire." I just give him a quick look, hoping he can see how sorry I am for my behavior. I like him. Really. But right now I don't care how he feels because I doesn't follow his instructions. Right now I can't worry about his fragile male ego. It's swirling around too much for that. So I hurry on to Claire's room. The dress swings around my legs. It rustles loudly. But note that too not me.

"Kalota, what's gotten into you?!" he calls out, the indignation clearly audible. I can imagine Pete twirling his arms around wildly as he slowly follows me, his voice getting louder with every step A little quieter. Just a little. But it shows that I'm gaining distance from him. And that's all I need.

Then I'm finally at the door. Immediately I want to push the handle down and storm in. But it's finished. That alone is enough to make my blood run cold. Claire always leaves her room open. Always. In case she needs help. This makes my heart skip a beat as I bang against the wood. The door vibrates under my fist. Shows that this one has had better days. But I do not care. Let her rip off her hinges. I just want to get in this goddamn room. And so I blindly strike again and again. I realize that Zaret may not be in this room. Maybe she has another client. It can be. Finally, I have no idea how long I've been passed out. It could be that he was here but Claire was no longer available. But all of that could, would, wouldn't help. All the little glimmers of hope show no reality. Are nothing more than coaxing. And now I need certainty. No longer. I need to see Claire. Need to know who's with her.

"Claire, open the door!" My shrill voice mingles with the dull knocking from me. Again and again I bang against the door with full force and my knuckles scream with the force of the impact. But nothing else sounds. No click of the lock, indicating a key movement. No voices. No screaming.

And then Pete grabs my elbow again, pulls me with him. "Pete let go of me," I whimper but don't look at him. Why isn't anyone opening the door? There must be someone in there?

"Zaret," I shriek, trying to pull away from Pete again. But he's learned. The grip is too tight for me to break free, so he's able to force me to take a step away from the door. Then another .And another one.I'm still staring spellbound at the handle.Hope it goes down.That way I don't notice where Pete is pulling me.Don't focus on the footsteps and sway a bit.It doesn't matter.

Then the door finally opens. Slow. Way too slow. And the first thing that is recognizable is Zaret's satisfied grin. His hair hangs far on his forehead and he also looks as if he has physically exhausted himself. The chest rises and falls a lot and normally I would think he was just having sex. But right now I'm not sure. There could also be another reason why he's breathing so heavily. And so a whimper escapes my lips while I immediately look at his hands. No redness. no blood That's a good sign, isn't it?

"Pete, wait," says Zaret, and his voice is calm. Very calm. It gives me certainty that nothing bad has happened yet. No matter how cruel Zaret is, he can never sound so calm when he's done something to Claire And just to confirm that, Claire now appears at the door as well. She glances slightly past Zaret into the hallway and even if I only see her big eyes, the fear is obvious. She fears Zaret. And you must be aware that something is wrong here. He has never gone to our brothel. He despises us prostitutes.

"I'm sorry to bother you," Pete says an Zaret wont and tugs at my arm again. "It won't happen again." He grips even harder, trying to force me to turn, but this time I push myself even more against the grip, eyes begging Zaret to just come with me. But he doesn't even look at me. Just looks at Pete and shakes his head. "Never mind. The interruption comes in handy." He smiles slightly to himself and now Pete finally lets go of me. He's probably surprised at the reaction. Normally the clients would insult him and demand the money back.

And now that I have the opportunity, I would have to go see Claire. Tell her to lock herself up and not open Zaret under any circumstances. But I can not. That would raise questions. Questions that could cost me my job. If Pete finds out I couldn't keep my mouth shut about the king, then that's it.

"Oh, what's this about?" Pete smiles at Zaret, seemingly completely unaware of what's going on. that he is blackmailing us, but nothing more. He has no idea what Zaret is doing to us prostitutes, how he treats us and, above all, how far he is willing to go to get what he wants.

And now Zaret looks at me. And I don't know how he does it, but the look alone is enough to arouse absolute despair. "I want to book Kalota." He smiles sardonically and I exhale heavily. This is for me. Only me. Zaret wants to show that he always has the upper hand. And the worst thing is that he's right. I have no leeway .Only the one he's providing me.So I look at Claire again, nod at Claire to just go to her room, but she doesn't notice.Doesn't even look at me properly.It's absolute panic recognizable in her wide open eyes. And not only there. Suddenly I also notice the wet cheeks. She was crying. Whether it's from a blowjob or whether Zaret has already beaten her up, I can't say.

Pete immediately shakes his head and brushes his hair back. "Kalota can't be booked at the moment." Now he's in the quandary of having to explain why I'm not available. But I can't pursue it any further as Zaret takes a step towards us.

"But I'm happy to give you another girl instead of hers." Pete glances at me and it's obvious he's cursing me right now. He probably thinks that Zaret only thought of me because he saw me here. That Zaret just waiting for me, Pete can't even begin to guess.

Zaret continues to approach us, tilting his head slightly. Don't take your eyes off me for a second. And if I didn't know myself that he's trying to intimidate me, I'd describe his walk as casual. He actually looks perfectly balanced. As if no thought is bothering him and he is just looking for some fun. But that's a lie. I'm aware. Nevertheless, I hold his gaze when he stands in front of me.

"No, I want her," he mutters, stroking my cheek. I'd like to back away. His touch doesn't do me any good. After all, everything he does is just another degradation. He can touch me. Use. And Like a puppet. Zaret is only too happy to take advantage of that. So his fingers keep brushing my skin and it's hard for me to keep a neutral expression. God, how I'd like to put all my disgust on my face. But right now I should I don't care about my pride. Claire is more important. She shouldn't be dragged into something that's none of her business. Yes, which she can't even begin to understand.

"Yeah, but Kalota isn't on duty." Pete sounds uncertain. He probably can't think of a reason to plausibly explain his decision. He doesn't usually care if one of his girls has just had a client.

"I don't want to fuck her either." Zaret looks at me for a moment before turning back to Pete. "She would just sit in the chair and see what I did to Claire." In the last part, the voice drops a few octaves. The others probably don't even notice the newly won depth of the voice, but I perceive the threat in it. This penetrates my skin. through my flesh. To my heart After all, he only says one thing: If we enter her room, then she will suffer. And any punch that hits her will probably hurt me more than her. Will come down on me like a whip and send me deeper and deeper into the darkness. Into the freezing cold that let my mother die even though she was alive.