Mothers Sell Your Daughters

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.was...........in.........life.

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started.1.8.10.

finished.1.8.10

note: PLEASE READ: this is just the prolouge, so it IS short. i apologize, but i felt it ended where it should have. this takes place in england, but i apologize if i'm inaccurate about some things. i am american, and have never been to england, so i'll have to look up a hell of a lot of stuff. though, if you are british and wouldn't mind lending me a hand, i'd be happy to have you aboard. and, oh yes. would anyone like to be my beta? you would get much credit, i assure. p.s. the chapters will end up longer. promise.

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"Bella! Bella dammit, get back here!" Her mother had shouted, but she didn't listen. Tears ran down her sallow cheeks, and she tripped over her hands and feet as she ran down the cracked sidewalk. She kept running, didn't stop. She heard pounding feet behind her and knew she had been followed.

Gulping down a large breath of air, Bella picked up her speed. She was determined to get away- nothing could stop her. She'd made it this far, the footsteps sounded fainter now, but she didn't trust herself to stop. She kept on, blood running down her legs from the numerous times she had fallen running and scraped her delicate skin.

She could barely breath, her lungs felt void and empty. Her head was light and she could pass out any minute- how long had she ran without stopping? Didn't matter. All that mattered to her were the footsteps, fading a little at a time, until they weren't even there at all. She didn't even stop then, though, and ran for a good fifteen more minutes. Only then did she lean against an apartment building, panting heavily as she slid down onto her bum.

The young woman took a few moments to collect herself before looking up. She was in a dirty alleyway. It rank of trash and beer and desolation. It made chills run down her back but that wasn't new to her. Anywhere she had ever been made chills run down her back and the hairs on her neck stand up. If anything, it taught a person to be aware. At all times. She hadn't quite mastered that art yet, though.

She eyed the sky warily. It was a cloudy night, and chilly, too. Not many stars shone and the ones that did were dim and forgettable. The city streetlights flickered, a translucent sheen to them. They led the way for her. As the North Star was to the three Wise Men, the ironwrought, worn down streetlights were to her.

A rat scuttled behind the dumpster near her and she started, breaking out of her reverie. Her nose wrinkled and she brought her legs up to her chest, enclosing her arms around her knees tightly. She had never been found of rodents and even though she hadn't lived in the most sanitary of places, or a sanitary place at all, she had always somehow been able to steer clear of the beady eyed things. Not here, though, where the homeless lived and the drug lords made their deals.

She toyed with her thin fingers, letting out a breath she didn't know she had held captive. The looming building in the middle of the only place she had ever known struck three A.M. and she knew it was signalling that she best get a move on. They may have stopped searching for her at the moment, but as soon as daylight broke, they would again be conspicuously roaming the city streets.

It wasn't safe anymore. But really, when had it been to begin with?

With renewed, shaky determination, she hoisted herself off the ground and back onto her bare feet. She had fifteen pounds (that she had stolen last minute) and a cigarette lighter to her name, but she figured everyone had to start somewhere. Or, in her case, start over somewhere. But all she was thinking at that moment was she had enough money for a cheap ticket to London and a new life, if she was lucky and no one caught her.

She'd had pretty rubbish luck in her life, but who knows, she wondered, looking around to see if a bus stop was anywhere around her, a person's luck could change. Besides, she had nothing to lose.

As long as her past didn't catch up with her.

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