"Jezzy, I'm hungry!" The sound of her little sister's voice pulls her from her dreams. The cold air of winter trickles in through the holes in the walls, making the room chilly. The young girl pulls the blanket up over her head to hide from her sister's complaints. If only she could lay here forever. The siren song of endless sleep softly whispers in her ears.
"Lana, please. Just let me sleep for a few more minutes." Her sister shakes her and asks again in a quiet voice.
"Jezzy, please. My tummy hurts…."
Pain. The fuel that keeps the body moving and the threat that keeps the mind sharp. The young girl's stomach rumbles in agreement with her sister. She sighs and tosses the blanket off. The cold air shows her breath as if to mock her.
She rubs the sleep from her eyes while looking down at her sibling. Lana's eyes are pleading for just one more meal, anything to stave off the hunger pains. Locks of light blue hair fall haphazardly from her head. The color has noticeably faded over the last several months, either due to malnutrition or lice, maybe both. The sight of her scratching her head has become commonplace, but it appears she's too tired to battle the tiny insects today. Small bony fingers are wrapped around the edge of the blanket that end in cracked and brittle fingernails. Death is slowly descending upon the sisters.
"Okay, I'll get something for you." It's been two years since the girl's parents died. A plague swept across the city, leaving many dead. The over-saturation of orphans has left many hungry children wandering the streets. The population has slowly become numb to the plight of the orphans and is no longer as giving as it used to be. What could have been a meager living during normal times has turned into a slow, painful death sentence.
'Jezzy' stands up from their bed. The tattered rags of her clothes dangle loosely from her body. She ignores the bite of winter and takes a step outside. Her work opportunities have all but dried up. There is little demand for a half-dead fourteen-year-old girl. Fortunately, or rather unfortunately, there is still one person who values what little she has left.
"Jezabel, my dear. I was wondering when you'd show up." The old merchant licks his lips at the sight of her entering his room. "My guards didn't give you any trouble on the way in, did they?"
"…"
"Here, have a seat. I'm sure you're hungry, no?" He lightly taps an adjacent chair. Jezabel sits down but ignores the loaf of bread he offers. It's imperative that she doesn't show any weakness.
"If you're not hungry, then maybe you should just leave. I'm not in the mood for a chat."
'Grrrrgrrglegrrr...'
Her stomach growls loud enough to fill the room.
"Hoho, betrayed by your own stomach."
"My sister is hungry. She asked me to get her something to eat," Jezabel finally speaks up.
"Hmmm. That's no good. I can't recoup the debt you owe me if you're both dead…" the merchant acts as if he's thinking while she silently stares at the floor. "That being said, I can't just give you something for free."
"I'll clean your house just like I always do," Jezabel intercedes.
"I've recently hired a maid, so that won't be necessary."
"Then I'll work at your shop."
"I've got a full staff."
"What do you want then?" She grips the handrails of her chair even though she already knows the answer to her question.
"Why don't you stand on the other side of the room there?" He offers. Jezabel trembles but remains seated. If she stands up, then the rest of the story will have already been decided.
"I should mention," a disgusting smile covers the merchant's face as he begins speaking. "This won't go towards your debt. This is just to pay for that loaf of bread."
[So that's all I'm worth, a loaf of bread?]
What little willpower she had, fades from the bite of his words.
"How am I going to pay back the debt then?"
"I'm glad you asked. Next time you come here, why don't you invite your sister to join us?"
[This son of a bitch.]
Her knuckles go white from her crushing grip on the chair. A small stream of blood appears from her biting her bottom lip.
[This isn't fair.]
The merchant has never made it clear from where the debt originated. Shortly after her parents died, he showed up with food, saying he needed to keep them alive so they could pay back their parents' debt.
[I'm so sick of being tired and hungry! I'm so sick of begging for scraps! I'm so sick of this ugly bastard!]
Fire rages in her deep blue eyes. All the petulant indignation from the last several months erupts at that moment. Jezabel grits her teeth and stands up from the chair. She searches the room for a weapon. The only thing on her mind at that moment is how to cause him as much pain as possible.
"I see you've still got some vigor in your step." The merchant comments offhandedly, unaware of the approaching typhoon. Her sights quickly settle on the butter knife on the bread tray. She strides up to the plate and snatches up the dull knife. The metal is pleasantly cool to the touch. "Hey, you can only get the bread after you do what I say. Put that down!"
Jezabel moves in front of the unsuspecting man and stands above him like a tower.
"What are you doing? Stand over there!" His voice rises in agitation. He points past her towards a spot around the far wall. She ignores him and raises the knife above her head. "Drop that this instant!"
'Squelch.'
The sound of flesh spreading emanates from the stab wound in his hand.
"AHHH!" He screams in pain, but she raises the knife again. And again. And again. Two more holes are bored out in his thigh and shoulder. The rage ebbs, and the sudden realization of her actions steps up to her attention.
[I'm going to die; he'll kill us both.]
With the merchant still screaming, Jezabel drops the knife and runs out the door. One of the guards tries to stop her on the way out, but she smoothly ducks past him. She has to escape the city. As long as she's here, she'll be hunted down like a pig. Jezabel dashes through the streets to her house and kicks open the door.
"Jezzy?" She picks up Lana and runs. The only thing that matters is that she keeps moving. "Where are we going?"
"We're leaving!" Jezabel explains through labored breaths.
"Okay," Lana responds nervously. She's obviously uncomfortable about leaving her home but trusts her sister enough to accept her decision. Jezabel runs through the streets as fast as her emaciated legs will carry her. Rows of buildings fly past her. An old man steps out of a door, and she awkwardly dodges past him. Out of concern for his well-being, Jezabel turns to make sure he doesn't get knocked over and slams into someone else. She holds her sister tightly to protect her from the fall and lands hard on her back. When she looks up, her eyes meet a large, muscular man carrying a sack over one shoulder. He glares down at the nuisance who collided with him.