Another chapter!
Please review
A teenager with long, curly red hair sat atop the roof, looking out to the sunrise over the cliff tops. She was dressed particularly scantily, just an extremely short skirt covered her thighs, and a silken camisole to cover her chest. The first rays to peek over the horizon were as red as her hair, and then they melted and blended into delicate pinks, oranges, blues with a golden hue and the everything was clear and the sun blossomed up into the sky.
Sighing slightly, she looked around for any signs of movement and slowly slid down the roof, feeling for the ledge beneath her feet which she'd climb through.
And as she slid into the room, she looked into the red eyes of her friend Charlotte, and frowned.
"You should stop crying, you know Hale doesn't like it," Elouise suggested, to which Charlotte scoffed and threw her a disdainful look.
"Since when did you start singing to his tune?" she spat, but wiped her eyes nonetheless. Elouise looked taken aback for a moment, her blue eyes widening considerably as hurt flitted across her face, but she composed herself again, and shook her head, sitting down on the patchwork quilt on her bed.
"I didn't, but I don't fancy seeing my best friend get slapped around."
There was silence, and Elouise regarded Charlotte wearily. The girl was growing to be a pretty young woman. At fifteen she was already shapely, with wide hips and full breasts, long legs and long brown hair cascading down over her pretty face. Her cheeks were slightly freckled, her eyes large and doe like, and she was often picked out by patrons of the whore house to fuck with. Elouise was a popular one too. She stood tall, her breasts weren't particularly large but they weren't disappointing either. She was slender, with long graceful limbs and stark facial features. Her chin was sharp and she often jutted it out in protest of something she wouldn't dare voice in fear of a flogging. She had beautiful high cheekbones, her eyes were large and shone like sapphires, and her hair was like fire tumbling around her face.
Charlotte sighed slightly, and looked down to the rotting floor.
"I can't do this any more," she whispered, her voice choking.
Elouise started slightly, knowing the implications behind those words. In their time plenty of women forced into prostitution here had found a way to top themselves, but that was something she wouldn't let Charlie do.
"Come on love, don't say that..." she whispered back, trying not to panic. "Just be patient, just... just last this year, okay? I'll find us a way out."
Charlotte looked up sadly, shaking her head.
"You've been saying that for years Ella, but we're still here."
Elouise paused, biting her lip. Her hand moved slightly to her shoulder, where the number '52' was tattooed there. It was her mark, her number. She was the fifty second girl to be marked by Hale, the bloke running this show, and Charlie was number '53'. She'd been promising since before then that they'd get out of this place, this torment, but it had been seven years now since it started, and this was beginning to become all she knew. She could still play piano, quite well might she add, as Hale kept an old one downstairs and she'd get the opportunity every now and then to play it when she wasn't busy.
But none of this mattered. She had made Charlie a promise years ago, and she needed to fulfil it soon.
"We're going to get out of here," she said firmly, standing up abruptly and taking Charlie by surprise. "Get some proper clothes on, drop the brassiere crap we've been given and then we'll escape."
Charlotte stared at her, aghast, but Elouise ignored her shock and turned and whipped off her top, pulling on a proper blouse instead that covered her and gave a little warmth. She dropped her skirt too, not bothering about privacy, and pulled on some brown leggings she'd got a while ago. She'd also stolen a pair of boots from one of her drunken visitors, and she'd stowed them away under the bed, for a time like this. After a moment something in Charlotte twigged and she copied Ella's actions, dressing appropriately but still looking stunned.
"How far do you think we'll get?" she whispered, a sudden sense of urgency gripping at their chests.
"Far away, all the way to Bowerstone hopefully."
"But that's miles away!" Charlie gasped, looking horrified.
"Then we go as soon as possible. You know Hale leaves people to sleep in the day because night time is business time. We go now, climb up onto the roof and down the gutter at the back then we're out. His guards are hung over and asleep so we're home free!"
They looked at one another, brown eyes stared into blue, anxiety stared into anxiety, and then there was a rush of happiness... then sadness.
"We'll need food..." Charlie whispered, sitting on her bed again, now in attire similar to Ella's.
"We'll steal it on our way," Elouise said finally, before hoisting herself up onto the small window ledge and squeezing her way through. She pulled herself up onto the roof and then hung her arms over the side in order to pull Charlie up too. As planned, though hastily done so, they scaled down the gutter and dropped soundlessly into the bushes below. They crept away for a short distance, every sound making their hearts leap up into their throats and their breath hitch ever so slightly, stopping them breathing.
The sun was risen properly now, the warm rays tickling their backs as they escaped their prison. Charlotte was trembling as they crept through the bushes, staying off the main path in case they were spotted. Elouise couldn't have admitted that her heart was hammering fiercely against her chest, making her shake slightly. Thankfully Charlie didn't notice, but a loud sound ahead stopped them both, and Charlotte dropped to the ground as a large group of men passed down the main path, barely three meters away, and they recognised them as patrons of the whore house. Elouise stayed very still, pressing herself up against the nearest tree and into the shadows. Once they passed she let out a breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding.
"Ella, if they're coming early it's not going to be long until-"
"Until Hale realises we're not there, I know."
They shared an uneasy glance, but they were too far gone now to go back, so they pressed on after making sure the path was clear.
After a few miles, when they could no longer see the rickety red roof of the bordello, and there was no indicator of people following them, they broke into a run, charging down the path, hand in hand, fleeing for a new life.