"Regina Mills?" The cabbie says, looking back into where I had just slid in.
I just give him a simple, curt nod. I don't answer, but instead hug my coat tighter to my body as I look out the window, viewing the airport.
"I just can't believe Regina Mills is in my cab." He continues, but he wasn't really in my thoughts. "The same Regina Mills who just won the 2016 award..." My fingers ran through the faux fur on my coat, mindlessly looking out of the window as the airport starts to leave my view, heading into what were once beautiful, green rolling hills. Now they just seem dull and dingy, but maybe that's just me – just my feelings for this place.
The cabbie just kept going on, talking about how he and his wife are big fans of me and my work, my last movie that I did and how spectacular. I didn't care, I didn't listen. I just wanted this to be over with already.
Miles upon miles, it felt, we finally arrive at where I'd told him. "Alright, now, which place is it? Are you sure this is the right road, Mrs-"
"I'm positive." I say, my voice cold and dry. "It's the third building on the right."
"That shack? Why in the world would you want to go th-"
"I'm a thirty-six year old woman, I can handle myself. Just take me there." I accidentally snap. I didn't mean to do that, but visiting this place caused enough stress on me, I didn't need him adding any to it.
When we pull up beside it in silence, he clears his throat. "I'll just wait out here."
"That won't be necessary." I say, tightening my coat on me again before opening the door. Even though I told him that, he still didn't leave. Even after I slammed the door, he still didn't leave. Obsessed fan. I ignored it and stared straight ahead of me, looking at the crumbling old shack. It doesn't look much worse than it did the last time I saw it – eighteen years ago. It may be physically vacant now, but were there people ever really living there anyway?
*.*.*.*
.*.*.*.*.
August, 1998
"Regina," The voice sent a chill down my spine.
"Yes mother?" I asked, my voice small as I swept the kitchen floor. I wasn't sure of the point anymore, mother didn't know the difference whether I cleaned it or not. I guess it was really all just for Zelena – she's so young, I didn't want her catching a sickness.
I hear something tumble, and hope to God it wasn't mother. Or Zelena, for that matter. But thankfully, I hear her scrape a picture frame up. She'd already thrown it against the wall and ripped Daddy's picture out, it was just the wooden pieces now. "I need you to go to the grocery store today." She said, stumbling into the kitchen where I was leaning against the broom now.
"I went yesterday, mother." I lied. I had to lie. She didn't seem to comprehend anymore we had no money. "We didn't have enough money for anything though, we'll have to save our checks to buy some food for-"
I ducked suddenly, trying to miss the frame she had just thrown at me. "Complaints! More complaints, Regina!" She snapped. "You need to get out! You need a job!"
"Mother, I just turned eighteen...I'm trying to find-"
"Not good enough." Cora said, getting in my face. I felt the urge to push her, but I wasn't strong enough. Besides, she still had enough milk for Zelena...I couldn't take that away from my baby sister.
I backed away one step, a soft, small one. "Mother, I-"
"Regina, I'm sick." She said before I could say anything else. "Zelena's going to starve to death if you don't go get yourself a job. And I'm setting you up with one. I know someone, he's coming tomorrow to pick you up. I gave you all the chances I could, Regina, but now it's come down to this." She said, looking in at Zelena in her makeshift crib. "She's going to starve, and you're her only chance now." She said, walking back into the living room and straight to her bedroom.
I can't say I blamed Daddy for running off with another woman. He deserved better than Mother, I just wish he would've taken me and Zelena with him. "Momma, what job-"
"Here." She stopped me again, turning and shoving a velvet, red dress in my face. "I used the last bit of my money to buy this for you. You keep this in good condition, Regina, and I promise it'll bring you a lot of money." She said, "Try it on."
"But Momma, I-"
"I said put it on, Regina." She sneers, looking me in the eye.
I knew she meant business. She always did, anyway, but sometimes I could talk some sense into her. Today wasn't a day I was going to be able to do that. "Okay." I finally surrendered, walking to the corner of the tiny room with the dress in my hand. I hung it on the edge of her rickety door, slipping out of my shoes easily. They were a size too big, someone had given them to me when they saw me walk a third hole into my last pair. After my shoes, off came my dress over my head. I felt my mother's eyes staring into the back of me, and it stung.
The red dress fit perfectly, showing off every curve I didn't even know I really had. I turn around, running my hands down the softest material I'd ever felt before looking at my mother. "What is this for?" I finally asked. She always had an ulterior motive.
"Your late birthday present." She said, but I almost winced from how bad that lie was. She was getting bad, how had I not even noticed she was actually sick? I just thought she'd been finishing off the last of Daddy's liquor. The look on my face must've told her I didn't believe that, though, because she cleared her throat. "It's for your new job. Like I said, keep it nice and it'll make you a lot of money." She said.
I looked down at it, furrowing my brows. "But-"
"Go to bed, Regina." She said, "This is your last night here."
With that, I took one look in the mirror. My new dress really did show off curves I'd never noticed before, and I didn't look like such a kid anymore. What was so important about this job?
"Goodnight, Mother." I whispered, leaving myself in the looking glass and walking out, the heels clicking on my shoes Mother had given me – an old pair of hers from when she was younger and went dancing.
That's where she met Daddy, but he never knew about her temper and alcoholism. Daddy nor I knew, really, until I was thirteen and things went downhill from there. I feel that I was a part of the reason Daddy left, but I promised Mother I'd always be good. I'd never try to run away again.
Now, she was pushing me out. She was making me leave to go get a job. Some man will be picking me up in the morning, and I got a new dress.
I wasn't sure if I was to be excited I was finally leaving this place, or sad to leave Zelena behind with Mother.
.*.*.*.
*.*.*.*.*
Standing and facing the mirror, the sun shone through and onto my face. It burned my eyes, but I couldn't look away. I didn't look myself.
My head finally moves when I see mother behind me, coming in soberly (for once). She had a hair brush in her hand, along with her old, ratty makeup bag. I hadn't seen her with it since way before Daddy left. "I've come to do your makeup." She said, a gentler voice than last night. It sounded as though she had been crying most of the night.
I hadn't slept all night, and my face definitely looked tired. "Oh." I said. She gestured for me to sit down, and I did as she wanted me to like always by pulling up a stool to the mirror and sitting on it.
She tugged and pulled on my hair, getting the messy knots out of it. "You should cut it." She said.
I winced. "No...I don't want to cut my hair. Please." I begged. My hair had always been long, even though she'd always tried to get me to cut it short. It was the one thing she'd never made me do.
She gave the subject up quickly, and we fell into a silence again. She brushed my hair and put it up in a loose up-do, turning me on the stool so that I was facing her. She starts painting my face – putting makeup on it. I'd never worn makeup before.
"There." She said, pursing her lips when she looked at me. I never felt good enough for her. "That's as good as we're getting, isn't it?" She asked, turning me back around away from her and into the mirror so I could see myself. I never looked so unlike me in my life. I stood, viewing my curves again in the red dress, seeing my hair fall over my shoulder and onto my breast.
"What is all of this for, Mother?" I asked.
"For your new job." She said.
I stayed silent. I didn't know what job she had gotten me in to, but it didn't sound good. "Mother, I-"
"Regina, I'm doing this for you. Don't you see? I'm not giving you away just because I'm tired of you. You need to make well for yourself." She said, then glanced out of the window. "The car is here. Gather your bag up, I'll let him in." She said, walking out of the door after pressing an awkward kiss to my head.
Again, I stared in the mirror and shook my head. Tears filled my eyes. How did she think giving me away would be good for me?
.*.*.*.
*.*.*.*.*
He slammed the door hard, letting my dress get caught in it. I'd never been in an actual car before, only the school bus before I dropped out.
I still had a wet face from letting a few tears fall while saying goodbye. I had to say goodbye to the only place that had a piece of my father lingering, the place that housed me for these eighteen years – even if it was rickety and old and infested with bugs. Goodbye to Zelena, who I didn't know what would happen with. Even goodbye to my horrible, wretched mother was hard. She still was the one who did my makeup and my hair this morning, whether she ever paid any attention to me before all of this or not – she was my mother.
The man gets in the car, turning it on with a loud rumble. I still had no idea of his name. He looked back at me, eying my body from head to toe, and back up again. "We'll need to get you new clothes before I let you out on the street." He said. Nothing else was said.
My mind was racing.
Street? Mother said this was a job. I didn't know I'd have to live on the street. But I didn't argue. She told me to just be nice to everyone, and they'll be nice to me. I figured the best thing I could do was to be quiet. I didn't want to say anything to upset him. After all, he was buying me new clothes.
At the end of what seemed to be a car ride that lasted forever, I felt sick and woozy. I wasn't sure if it was from nerves or from the hills we had to go through. Either way, I felt liked I was going to throw up on the man when he opened the door for me.
"Now, go in, pick you out some outfits, and pay for them with this." He said, handing me a piece of plastic. I'd never seen anything like this before.
"What is it?" I asked.
He gave me a funny look, like I was stupid or something. "It's a credit card." He said, scoffing. "You really aren't good for anything, are you?" He said and patted me on my rear. It startled me. No one had ever done that before, except Mother when I'd done something wrong. "Now get in there and buy you some damn outfits! Don't talk to anyone." He said, raising his voice.
After the shock of him touching me like that, it made me feel even more jumpy than I had been. I jumped and ran inside the storefront. Once I was in, I caught my breath and looked around at all of the pretty clothes, so many things to choose from. I tucked the plastic thing inside the top of my dress, looking around warily.
"May I help you?" A perky woman asked, and I jumped again. I shook my head no, and she left. I wasn't supposed to talk to anyone, and I wasn't about to get in trouble with my new boss.
.*.*.*.
*.*.*.*.*
After choosing a few new dresses, some shirts, some shoes, and some pants, I came out. I had no idea how to use the plastic thing, and the woman at the front had to help me. I felt utterly stupid and dumb.
The man was waiting for me in the car, but this time he didn't get out to open the door. He stayed inside and unlocked it from there, making me open the door with armfuls of shopping bags.
I struggled to get in, but finally made it. Before I was hardly inside and shut the door, he took off again. We drove for what felt like forever again, but maybe it was just because I was queasy already. When we came to another stop, it was in the middle of an alley way.
He got out this time again. Girls suddenly came out of the dingy apartment buildings everywhere, hanging all over him. Girls my age, some older. Some even looked younger than me. What is this place? I asked myself. I didn't understand.
He opened the door for me after pushing those other girls away, pulling me by my shoulder and yanking me out. He pushed me against the car with his full body weight, startling me again. It more than startled me, it scared me. "Change right now." He sneered. "And after, come to the first apartment on the third floor and knock five times. If you don't, I'll kill you." He said.
He finally backed off of me, backing away a little. My mouth hung open, my body didn't want to move. All of those girls were staring at me, waiting for me to do something. Were they waiting for me to change, just like he was?
I finally willed my arm to reach back into the backseat of the car, my hand shaking so badly I couldn't hardly pull the dress out of the paper bag. I laid it down right behind me, easy to reach. I looked back in front of me again, seeing all of the eyes still on me. There were probably at least fifteen other women – or girls – watching me. Five of fifteen were hanging all over this excuse of a man in front of me. "Well!" He yelled.
I startled again, quickly reaching down and ripping the dress off over my head. It was so cold suddenly, even though it was the middle of August. I felt so exposed and horrible. I just as quickly put the new dress on, and he slapped my face. "Next time you better do it quicker." He said before walking off to the stairs. Presumably to the third floor.
I stood there in horror, closing the car door. The other girls went on to whatever they were doing before, some of them started walking down the sidewalk. I was too scared to move, but when I heard the door shut a few floors above me, I knew where I needed to go. Otherwise, he'd kill me.
.*.*.*.
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