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My eyes stared blankly at the figure standing right in front of me. There was nothing more terrifying than meeting a woman with such heavy makeup. Her sharply arched eyebrows, thick red lips, and blushed cheeks made me uneasy. I held my breath, trying to lower my gaze.
"It's been a while since I've been here, and seeing you, I didn't expect you to grow up so much," she said, her ring-adorned fingers touching my chin, lifting it so that my eyes met her wide ones.
People in this tenement building knew her as Claire, but she preferred to be called Madam-a title that felt slightly ridiculous to me. She was the owner of this building and also the owner of all the women living here.
"How old are you now?" she asked, squinting her eyes.
"Ni...nineteen," I replied. In truth, I was already twenty-two, but there was no way I could be honest with her. That would spell disaster for me. In this place, once the girls reached twenty, Claire would take them to her brothel, and their repayment would begin. Since Claire had provided for them until adulthood, she demanded compensation by selling them to sleazy men. This cycle continued, making the brothel a permanent job for the girls.
I certainly didn't want to end up like them. Just hearing their stories was enough to give me chills. Although they said Claire was fair by splitting their earnings, which allowed them to live better than before, it still terrified me.
"Nineteen, huh? I thought you were already twenty. Look at your firm hips and alluring chest. I can hardly wait until you're ready," she said, patting my bottom hard. Damn it! I truly hated what she did.
"Aren't you interested in joining your friends and having fun at my other house?" she offered. I bit my lip nervously, fear suddenly gripping me at her proposition.
"Think about it. Once you're ready, I'll come fetch you," she said, chuckling. Her laughter echoed in my ears, even after she left my sight.
Claire visited this building once a month to monitor all its residents, most of whom worked in her brothel. The tenants here came of their own volition. Some were very young, and until they reached the age Claire desired, their job was to clean the building and perform other tasks as instructed-except working in the brothel.
I was the only one who didn't know why I was here. According to Claire, I had been here since I was a baby, brought by my mother. If that was true, my mother must have been one of Claire's workers.
My mother passed away when I was two due to a severe illness. I don't remember her face because I was too young. As for my father? I didn't want to think about it; he was likely one of my mother's clients.
"Will Claire take you to the Sun House?" Sandra, my roommate, asked. The Sun House was what they called Claire's brothel. It was named so because most of it was painted yellow and orange, with matching furnishings. While it might seem unique, to me, it was terrifying.
"No, she just offered," I replied. Sandra and I were among the few young girls not yet of age and still safe from being taken to the Sun House. At this point, no one could know my real age; otherwise, Claire would eagerly take me there.
From the stories told by the other tenants who had worked there, the Sun House was supposedly enjoyable. Fancy clothes, delicious food, and entertainment were provided, including television with engaging programs, music, and more. If lucky, generous clients would leave big tips, which they could keep.
But no matter what was said about the Sun House, I had no intention of stepping foot in it. All I could think about was how to escape this place.
Claire was a cruel woman. Once, a tenant tried to escape. When caught, there was no mercy for her. The woman was tortured in such a brutal way that no one ever heard from her again. Some said Claire had ordered her henchmen to kill her and dump her body in the woods to be devoured by wild animals.
Every time I thought of escaping, the fear of such a fate paralyzed me.
"Let's go, we need to hang these clothes out to dry. Look how bright the sun is today," Sandra said, snapping me out of my thoughts. Sandra and I had steady jobs washing dirty linens and clothes from the brothel-sheets, pillowcases, and other items. No one complained-or dared to complain-because Claire provided free food and shelter. I'd do anything to avoid the brothel.
I never spoke of my escape plan to anyone. Trust was scarce here. Who was friend and who was foe? Sharing my thoughts could mean betrayal. Someone might inform Claire.
Every night, fear consumed me as I wondered what tomorrow would bring. I didn't want to end up like my mother. I wanted to start fresh, far away from here.
The money I'd saved seemed enough to get me out of this city. Some tenants gave me money for extra work, like doing their chores after they spent all day at the brothel. Slowly, I saved it all.
"Are you excited to work at the Sun House?" I asked Sandra as we sat on the stairs, taking a break after hanging the clothes. She turned to me and wiped her forehead.
"Maybe. Haven't you seen Meggie, our neighbor? She wears beautiful clothes and flashy jewelry every day. And she's only been at the Sun House for a short time," Sandra replied.
"All for clothes and jewelry?" I asked cautiously.
"I'm tired of being stuck here every day. At least at the Sun House, I'd meet more people. It wouldn't be as boring as here," she said.
I wanted to ask if she wasn't scared or disgusted by the job, but I held back. It would only make her suspicious.
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