Chapter nine – An Unheard Voice

The night passed slower than any Tawna had ever experienced before. After she had been taken off the stage, she remained leaned against the wall until the show was over. She regained consciousness backstage with the lights still flashing and the noise still pounding in her ears. She remembered looking around and meeting eyes with Pinstripe. She reached out her hand and called to him, but he rolled his eyes and turned away. Her heart heavy with sadness, the unbearably loud atmosphere grew to be too much for Tawna to bear and she fainted again.

She reawakened in her bed. Her boots had been removed, but she was still wearing her costume. With a spinning head, she slowly raised herself up. Very slowly, she began to remove the outfit. Each button and buckle was a challenge to undo, but Tawna moved consistently. She slipped out of her skin-tight leather skirt and struggled out of the violet corset. She was about to pull off her tight T, but suddenly a nauseous feeling stabbed her through the gut.

Headache momentarily forgotten, Tawna rushed as fast as she could, threw open the door and retched into the toilet. For a moment she just knelt there, her forearms pressed against the seat. Tears streamed down her face, and those tears strengthened into shoulder-shaking sobs. She cried hard between periods of vomiting, feeling utterly horrible without knowing why.

When she was finished, and she was sure of the fact, Tawna quickly brushed her teeth. She looked at herself in the mirror, and her spirit fell when she saw how bloodshot her eyes were. Her cheeks were sullen as well, making her look terribly fragile. Tawna pressed the palm of her hand to one eye when she felt tears leak through it.

What's going on? Tawna thought bitterly as she began to cry again.

Feeling all-around disgusting, Tawna decided she'd take a shower. She turned on the water to let it warm up and then quickly slipped off the remainder of her clothing. She stepped into the shower and flinched as the hot water passed over her. She let the water soak her thick blond hair, and quickly lathered and rinsed. She was feeling too sick to take a long relaxing shower.

Tawna turned off the water and wrapped herself in a towel. The headache was returning, and in full force. Tawna groaned and groped for the sink to support herself. Just as Tawna was staggering toward the bed the door flew open. Pinstripe stood framed in the doorway, his teeth clenched in anger.

"Finally. What the hell was that?" Pinstripe gestured toward the stage, and Tawna instantly knew what he was talking about.

"I should think it's obvious." Tawna said smugly as she crossed her arms. "I fainted."

"No shit. I figured that out for myself." Pinstripe took a strong step forward, but Tawna held her ground. "You know how much of a hassle you made for me?"

Tawna gritted her teeth. Her anger was strengthening, and this time she couldn't withhold it.

"Hassle for you? God, Pinstripe! Would it kill you to ask how I was feeling before you lose it on me? Do you think I meant to pass out on stage?"

"Well, Veronica took your place for the rest of the show, and, frankly, I think the audience likes her better, so we might be making a change."

"Fine!" Tawna yelled. "Do it. In fact, why don't you take me right out of the show? I didn't want to be in this twisted whore display anyway."

"You're in it because you're my girl. This club is my dream, you know that."

"That's right, it's your dream. So you put on a thong and six-inch heels and strut round on stage and have those sick bastards whoop and holler for you to take it off!"

Pinstripe's eyes were dangerous. "I don't like that tone you're using with me Tawna."

"Deal with it." Tawna growled, tears springing to her eyes. "I'm not one of your kick-around whores."

"Damn it, you're getting hysterical."

"This is a nightmare you led me into. I never wanted this. You know that and still you force me to do things I hate. Do you know what I do? Don't you see what you made me into?" Tawna's fists were white-knuckled at her sides.

Pinstripe was growing angrier by the second. "I'd stick around and let you relay your poor, unfortunate story to me babe, but I'm busy right now. Some of the girls are in a mood downstairs and I don't want to miss out on the action." Pinstripe turned to leave, but seemed to remember something and turned back around. "Oh, and you've got a solo tomorrow night, so lay your costume out."

"I'm not doing it." Tawna snapped.

Pinstripe's face was bewildered. "What did you say?"

Tawna frowned darkly as tears streamed down her face. "I said, dream on asshole."

Pinstripe's eyes widened for a fraction of a moment. When he overcame the shock of her daring words, he strode toward her with a furious gleam in his eyes. He grasped her arm tightly and forced her against the wall. Tawna's initial anger subsided quickly, leaving her in a cold fear. She could not tear her eyes away from Pinstripe's frightening red gaze.

"When I found you, you were nothing. A feeble little nobody, alone and afraid. If I didn't pity you enough to take you in where do you think you would be now? Would you rather have stayed with that little orange freak?"

Tawna frowned darkly. "Don't you dare call him that."

Pinstripe smiled wickedly. "Oh, so that's it. You wanted to be his whore."

Tawna was about to say that that's not what she wanted. She didn't want to be anyone's whore. But before she could speak Pinstripe grasped her tightly by the wrists and slammed her arms above her head. Tawna squeaked in surprise, and her terror consumed her.

"Well, even though I'm not your brave bandicoot rescuer, maybe I can accommodate you to your satisfaction. I know you never had a problem with it before."

Tawna attempted to twist away, but it was no use. Pinstripe dragged her along and threw her hard onto the bed. In panic, Tawna tried to scurry away but Pinstripe was faster and stronger. He pinned her on her back and glared at her.

"I don't want to get you excited, baby. Unfortunately I've got more important things to do right now. My first concern is the prosperity of this club, and so you will perform tomorrow. Is that, in any way, a problem for you?"

Tawna trembled beneath Pinstripe, and lowered her eyes. "No."

"Good. I'm glad you're finally snapping out of this weird mood you're in. Have a good sleep, sweetheart. Don't wait up."

With that, Pinstripe left the room, slamming the door behind him. Tawna felt bleak devastation seep through her. For a moment she simply lay there on her back, staring up at the ceiling. Her towel had come loose during the rough treatment, and hardly covered her. Tawna didn't care. She stood without bothering to fix it and walked carefully to the window. She felt as though she was in a trance, and the world around her was nothing but a surreal dream. She knew one thing. She could not take this anymore. She placed her hands against the window. Suddenly her hands balled into tight fists. As her rage and despair began to surface, she began to sob and pound her fists against the glass mercilessly. Somehow her fingers had pulled against the window, rapidly sliding it open. She hardly hesitated.

One foot first, Tawna stepped through the frame. Her other foot delicately followed, and soon she could feel the wind blowing past her. The air was cool, and cold as it passed over Tawna's still damp skin. Slowly, she stood, leaning out the window and gazing below. She was very high. When they had first come there, Tawna had chosen this room. She'd chosen it because she could see N. Sanity Island from that window, and the sight always brought her happy memories.

Now, she dangled over a precipice, holding lazily onto the window. The island was dark, but the first rays of light were brightening the horizon. Tawna's grief and pain caused her to look down again. All she had to do was let go of the window, and she'd never have to feel this way again. She'd never have to dance again, she'd never be felt up by another sleaze ball again. All her problems would disappear. Yet, as Tawna's contemplation became a dangerously agreeable prospect, she found herself hesitating. She could hear something. She stared toward N. Sanity Island again, furrowing her brow in confusion. It was as though a gentle, calming voice drifted through the air and filled her with a warm feeling. Tawna placed her hand instinctively to her stomach. What was this feeling? She recognized it in a moment. It was hope.

While she was alive, there was still hope to change. There was still time to find strength, still time to find happiness. Tawna lowered herself back into the room, sighing deeply with utter exhaustion. Carefully, she closed the window and strode toward the bed. Too tired to root around for her nightgown, and with the knowledge that Pinstripe would not be returning that night, Tawna pulled off her towel and let it drop to the floor. She pulled aside the blankets, laid her damp body down on the bed and covered herself with the warm, thick blanket.

Tawna spent most of the night crying softly into her pillow. Her sadness was consuming, but somehow that glimmer of hope was still alight in the pit of her stomach. Eventually, Tawna's crying ceased and she fell asleep, her cheeks wet with lingering tears.