NERTHUS – ELEVEN YEARS AGO
“Is this your true color?” the young woman sitting next to me asks, her Spanish accent heavy in her speech.
“Uh-huh,” I answer as I tear my eyes away from the bars of the cages we are sitting in.
She scoffs, a tired smile playing on her lips as she shifts on the cold floor we are sitting on. “It is beautiful.”
“Tha- Thank you,” I answer in a stutter, and scrunch up my nose.
Francis had told me not to talk to strangers because the people in a big city would be different.
‘Everybody will try to scam you,’ he told me before he finally let me board the bus which would be driving me into my new life.
Scared about her speaking to me again, I lower my head.
“Her family surely got a lot. Such color is rare!” Another girl with a similar accent says, scoffing.
Shrugging, I hug my legs to my chest. “I- I wouldn’t know. I’m ju-just a bo-boring country girl.”
“Oooh, you are good at rodeo,” a third woman shouts, making everyone in that cold cell laugh.
I smile but decide to keep silent, and they apparently lose interest as they start to converse with each other in what I perceive to be Spanish.
On top of the cultural shock that I got as I found myself in this big city, my excitement of finally being away from my family died down pretty soon as I found Francis’ friend. In my naivety, I didn’t expect to meet anyone worse than him, but I did…
The guy was totally rude, and from the look he had in his eyes, I would even dare to say that I’m lucky that he asked how much I would charge, instead of just taking what he wanted for free.
From there it just went downhill. After having survived maybe the worst days of my life in a shabby hotel with my new co-pimp and his friends, I finally got delivered to my new whorehouse. But as soon as I arrived there, an angry man kept yelling at me, insulting me as a stupid bitch that didn’t know anything about life. Instead of just helping me out, he screamed at me saying that I had to go through the circles of hell first. The soldiers appointed to this field specifically would decide if I would get in or not. He scoffed, bragging about how exquisite his house would be, and that he surely wouldn’t take in every whore that would wash up in front of his door, before he spit to my feet.
Looking around, I scrunched my nose and at seeing how moldy and sticky everything looked, I thought that I didn’t want to see how the shabby brothels looked in that case.
Also, one phrase didn’t let me go anymore, triggering my pressure to perform.
‘The soldiers would show you where you belong.’
As if on cue, a bulky man appeared and dragged me out of the house. After pushing me into a car, he drove me to an industrial building, where were supposed to be the circles of hell.
And how funny to give such a cold place a name like this.
Being dragged and pulled through the process of registering my entry into the territory by being photographed, getting my fingerprints taken, being interrogated, and having to fear armed men talking in languages I don’t understand, I start to understand why they call it the circles of hell.
As I finally get registered properly and get pushed into my cell with my new friends, I have lost all my will to think positively. I try to remind myself over and over again, that I’m away from my family.
And this is all that counts.
At least, I hope that they are working quickly, but I get disappointed once again.
The next days are just an entirely different nightmare. While we are being fed like animals, and just get released to the toilet twice a day, we fear the moment when the soldiers come by to pick one of us, to never see her return again. The barred cells sitting on the other side of the hallway are filled with men, while the ones on my side just contain women. I see couples that have apparently been separated and keep conversing over the dimly lit hallway.
I even saw some of them trying to reach out to each other as they must be as desperate as I am. But they have to be careful as the soldiers keep making rounds, beating anyone that would hold a hand out of the cell.
And after the beating, they would disappear as well.
I clench my head between my knees and rock back and forth, trying to soothe myself. I force myself not to cry, as I am too afraid to be punished for that.
And even if I want to get out of here, I don’t want to disappear.
My heart finally stops as a bulky man in a black suit rips open the cell door and shouts, “You. Redhead!”
I clench my eyes together tightly and lift my head slowly in the hopes of seeing another woman with red hair, but crickets.
All eyes are lying on me, while I get up like a newborn fawn. I pass my hands on my cold legs as if wanting to free them from the dirt of the floor and pull down my shorts, before I hurry towards the soldier, nearly stumbling over my feet.
“Slow, Red. I can’t afford to pay for your bruises,” he snarls before closing the door after me.
“See, I said she was expensive,” I hear the woman sneer as I follow the soldier through the dimly lit hall.
I pull at the long sleeves of my t-shirt, covering my hands, as I try to blend out the murmuring that expression provoked and concentrate on the back of the shoes of my grumbly escort.
“In here,” he instructs angrily, making me step into a room.
My eyes widen as I feel like entering another universe. The room is submerged in a warm light and nearly looks like a cozy living room. If it wasn’t for the camera standing in the middle of the room. I lose my grip around myself and turn towards an elegant lady with a round and friendly face behind a massive desk.
I stand there, watching her sign papers with the soldiers standing around her like gloomy statues, while the heated air of the room warms my flesh and seeps into my bones.
“Oh, honey. Welcome. Please, take a seat.” Her honeyed voice lulls me into immediate action, and I walk towards the couches with fast steps.
“Th-Thank you, ma’am,” I say lowly, sitting down.
She smiles at me, takes up a tray with a tea set, and moves her massive body dressed in expensive designer clothes to the couch in front of me. “Sorry about the wait, darling.”
The charming lilt to her voice nearly would have had an effect on me if I wasn’t already used to such individuals from our church back home. All the ladies there used to speak to me in such voices, before running their mouths behind my back.
It didn’t take me long to learn that the voices that hold the most heavenly tone come from people with the most ill-natured hearts.
She pours me a cup of tea, and I take it, thanking her with a smile. I know what the purpose of her is, but I have to play the game, or I will end up in a kennel.
One of the soldiers hands her my file, and she takes it after taking a sip herself, putting the cup down to open it.
“So young,” she sighs, smiling. “How did you enjoy New York in the last days?”
Really?
“Oh, it’s huge. It’s exciting to be here,” I say, forcing a happy tone, and she laughs, apparently pleased about my answer.
“Oh, sweetheart, you will love it. Wait until you get to see more of it.”
I nod, clenching my fists over my knees. “I can’t wait.”
She takes another sip before getting up and gesturing to the camera. Would you be so kind as to stand on the labeled spot, sweetie?”
“Sure,” I get up and stand directly onto the cross lied by two straps of blue tape.
A soldier steps forward silently, starting the camera, and I get nervous about what will happen next.
The woman starts asking me questions and asks to undress myself. I comply without protest and get through the strange interrogation.
Except for having my body on display, the questions aren’t really strange. She asks me about my age, where I come from, where I went to school, but also about my experience as a whore, things like what I have already done, the clients that I had, how long I have been doing it, and how I would react in certain situations.
She seems to be really pleased with my answers while she protocols everything with excitement. As I finally got through all the questions, I can dress back up and I get escorted back out again.
I get brought out to another fancy car and driven through the never-sleeping city.
But in the end, the nice lady seemed like she had been the most honest person I have ever met, after my mother. Then after going through the most awkward job interview in history, I get escorted back to the whorehouse of the screaming man. I nearly fear the moment of seeing him again, but as I step in with the soldiers appointed for my delivery, he just scoffs.
“This good, huh?”