Seven Years Later; The Present...
"You idiot! You filthy slut! The fucking food is over cooked! Do you expect me to eat this! You bitch! Are you trying to poison me!" She heard the screaming from downstairs. Her father was having one of his bitch fits again. Likely aimed at her step mother Selena. Just the typical Monday.
Silla casually laid on her bed upstairs blocking out the sounds as she stared at an old photo on her bedside table. It was a photo of her biological mother. She should've gotten rid of the bitch by now, but she couldn't bring herself to do it.
She had been a model that traveled the world before she had Silla. She had long raven hair and blue eyes that were like crystals. Eyes rimmed by long feather like eyelashes; casting a shadow on her slender cheeks. She was slim and fragile like glass. Yet she had curves in all the right places.
She was beautiful.
Beautiful in the way that a forest fire was.
Silla was practically a carbon copy of her; which is probably why her father despised her so much. It's their own fault that she turned out the way she was. Or in her fathers words 'Satan's reincarnation' as he called her; he was a big believer in one of the old religions.
How could she abandon her? And Leave her to pick up the pieces and clean up the mess that was their lives? They say parents mistakes and misdeeds fall onto their children; Silla guessed it was true.
To put it simply or to sum it up after Silla's mother abandoned her at the age of only five to live the high life in the upper ring she left behind massive debts, no money as she had all taken it with her, angry loan sharks, and to put the cherry on top an extremely abusive father.
A few years later Selena showed up. She quickly became a mother figure to Silla; well the only parental figure really. But in the end neither of them were dealt a good hand. Seeing, as Silla's father drank all their money, they managed to earn and often beat both of them blue in a fit of rage.
Which led an eleven year old Silla to runaway from home in a desperate attempt at a better life. Though oddly enough she couldn't remember what happened while she was away. It seemed as if all her memories of the time were hazed or simply not there. When her father finally got his hands on her again he beat her so badly and slammed her head onto the rim of the bathtub causing her to have retrograde amnesia from a basilar skull fracture.
That night Selena had taken her to the local doctor that lived in the lower ring to get treated when she passed out. He worked out of his own home and didn't charge much for his services and thankfully Silla didn't need surgery as it would heal on its own.
So in the end Silla just passed off her forgotten memories as of no importance, because whatever may have happened probably wasn't of great significance anyway. Though this would cause unknown irreparable damage in the near future...
Snapping out of her thoughts once the loud noises and screaming seemed to die down Silla descended the broken and splintering stairs as they creaked at the added pressure.
Meeting the end of the stairs, she came face to face with her father but before she could react, he shot forward, hand clamping around her fragile neck, not enough to cut off her air, but enough that her already sore neck was screaming in pain. Silla thrashed, throwing whatever she could at his body. She managed to claw at his face, drawing blood, before she was lifted even higher and held aloft in the air, being strangled without mercy.
Her throat felt as though it was collapsing as painful knots formed in her chest. It was almost impossible to take a proper breath when her throat felt so clogged up and scratchy like sandpaper. She released rough coughs and a warm metallic liquid shooting up Silla's esophagus and filling her mouth; from this she had a sudden thought.
She let out another cough but this time forced and on purpose. As a result blood sprayed out her mouth and straight into her fathers face
causing him to cringe backwards and close his eyes from shock and disgust. The blood dripping down his face, sprinkling the floor, his clothes and skin, plus the carpet with the red liquid as he stood in disbelief.
Though it wasn't long until pure rage made its way back on his face. She stared directly into his furious eyes and slowly lifting her blood red lips into a mocking smile. Her eyes darkening as she stared back at him. In anger he only squeezed more. Trying to inflict more pain. It always pissed him off that he couldn't make her scream. Frustrated from the lack of reaction he yelled in anger and flung her on the floor. Causing the floor boards to crack at the force. Her already bruised neck aching as she lifted her head and watched him walk out the door. New bruises forming over the old ones.
But self-pity was for another time. Right now she had things to do and places to be. Once outside her home the city lights were florid as everything gleamed, displaying advertisement for narcotics, prostitution and harlotry of all kinds. Besides there was no one to stop it from happening. It wasn't unusual that people were being savagely slaughtered, raped, and mugged but no one seemed to care; as if it was normal everyday life. Some even paid to see such regular acts. Silla didn't count her chickens but she's seen way too many murderers get off scott free.
Though she was never really like the other people here, she hated seeing such unnecessary cruelty. Strangely she had a strong moral code, despite her upbringing. She believed that if you were going to kill you needed a damn good reason to. Because if you kill just cause, you can, then you're just a murderer.
She liked to think all life was precious but was not naive enough to believe certain people deserved to live or deserved redemption. There was a line that once you crossed it there was no coming back. Silla had her beliefs, but she wouldn't force them on anyone else.
These things meant nothing to most, but this was it. This was home.
This was hell.
This... Was the City Of Bones.
The city waited for no one, so she continued her journey walking even farther from her home and making her way to work. Even with the hustle and bustle of the city, she still managed to find piece and quiet. The bar she tended was on the eastern edge of what used to be home to the wealthiest of New Yorkers, but now only a few live on the western side, closer to where Central Park use to be. The walk was about half an hour, and it was calm and quiet enough to give the eerie aura of empty city streets. She loved it.
Walking into her friends bar she was employed at she was instantly blinded by the flashing multicolored lights and smoke but was quickly greeted by the manager of the establishment and best friend.
"Well hello there sweetheart!" Charlize said seductively while licking her lips as she looked over an oblivious Silla over.
Though before she could register what Charlize had said the woman had swung her long arms around Silla's small shoulder and pulled her closer to her. Young Silla was naive to romance but even she could tell her eyes weren't exactly on her face though despite this Charlize's overly friendly personality didn't affect her.
Shortly after meeting Silla was speedily dragged back by the cheery owner to where all the other employees were gathered to discuss up coming events and shifts for the week. Everything was straight business and everyone seemed to be chatting away and soon the afternoon had concluded when the clock struck midnight and all shifts had been finished.
After the day had ended Silla left to meet up with an old friend. Tonight all she was gonna need was her two best friends; a sexy Ukrainian and a negroni...
The Red Light district surprisingly didn't make her feel nervous as she walked down it. The place was like an adults best time, but, it was sketchy as hell. Shady people stood in alleyways, open prostitutes, and drug dealings. Mostly just sex stuff; half of the district was brothels.
From a shady corner Silla noticed a suspicious man stare at her. His eyes didn't leave hers for a second. She slowly, without taking her gaze from his, raise her hand and strangled her neck making a weird face all the while. A silent but deadly threat. His eyes widened and he looked away quickly. The only reason Silla was here now was to find Katya. She worked at a sort of hostess club, one of the nicer buildings here.
When she finally made it to her club and entered through the doors Silla was immediately relieved. Katya was one of the first people to meet her eye, and upon seeing Silla's tired look, immediately left the customer she was with and motioned to the bar.
Silla stepped quietly among groups and joined her, the bartender already mixing up her tasty, needed drink. Katya placed her hands affectionately on the tired girls shoulders as she sat down, lovingly rubbing Silla's tight muscles as she laid her head on Katya's bouncy breasts.
After looking at her, Silla realized just how underdressed she was. Katya wore a tight fitting, red dress that stopped right above her nipple, not leaving much to the imagination. It sparkled in the dim red lights, which both hurt and captivated my eyes. Silla on the other head wore plain leggings, flip flops, and a large stained men's XXL T-shirt. Which was obviously too big and old.
Though she must have zoned out for too long because when the drink was made, Katya placed it in front of her and held to the straw to the underaged girls lips, "Here, have some relief and tell your girlfriend all about it." Silla practically sculled the negroni in one go, her friend immediately telling the bartender to fill it back up.
The more she drank the more she was starting to feel the effect in her body; the addictive warm fuzzy feeling spreading through her; she was a lightweight and was definitely going to regret this later. But anything beats going home to that asshole called her father.
To Be Continued...