Name: Katie Miller
Email: Aeris104@hotmail.com
Title: I Didn't Mean To Hurt Him




I Didn't Mean to Hurt Him


I didn't mean to hurt him so much...I really didn't. I was just trying to make money, to put bread on the table...Lord knows I hadn't eaten in days. How was I supposed to know that his wife had just died? I was just a defiled woman, no longer the radiant girl I once was; my dreams were killed after I realized that the only way to make money in this new world was by living a life of debauchery. I had no intent on making him cry, to see the look of pain in his eyes...I didn't want to force the hurt that I had long felt on anyone else, and yet I had committed that very crime.

I had been a vivacious, pretty girl growing up in Maranda. Intelligent, or so they claimed. Now I wonder if that was ever really true. I had looked forward to marrying a rich, respected nobleman who was everything a girl could want in a husband. My future looked sunny, until that day...

I remember I had been out to lunch at the caf‚ with my mother. Then I saw her...she had a deathly sort of beauty; the type that haunted as well as enticed. But there was another thing about her, hate burned in her eyes. Her silvery blonde hair billowed about her like a cape as she commanded the troop of soldiers around her to give her a torch. It was like the entire earth stood still, as she lit the torch and set fire to the city I had grown up in. The hate burned even worse than the fire, and she let out a laugh. I realized that I had to leave this deathtrap as soon as possible, and tried to grab my mother and pull her to safety. But it was too late...she tried to run, but the fire caught up. The last I saw of her was her burnt corpse...The next thought I had was of my fianc‚, but I knew that he would not make it. He had been inside one of the first buildings she burnt, and tears flooded my eyes as I thought of his fiery demise.

But there was still me. And I would soon join them in death if I did not hurry. So, I took off and went south. It was an agonizing journey, I don't even know how I made it to Albrook. By the time I arrived there, I was filthy, my clothes were ripped, and I was broken emotionally. Suddenly, a man in his 40s approached me, with a beer belly and alcohol on his breath.
"I don't have no money," he told me, in a raucous manner. "But yer so pretty...I'll give ya this boat ticket ta Nikeah fer two nights."

Being na‹ve, I accepted. When the night on the ship approached, I soon learned what he had in mind. And what could I do? He had given the ticket...Thus began my new, horrid life as one of the occupations I'd never even thought I'd ever have to become.

I soon became used to the debauchery of my new career. I developed several angles to my approach; southern belle, flirtatious ditz, and the like. I was still in my thirties, but my bitterness and depression made me look much older. Since this wasn't good for my business, I had to pile on gallons of makeup to cover it up, which made me look exactly like what I had become...a trashy whore. Every time I had to approach a man, I wanted to burst into tears. The dirty looks from the lovely, elegant women who were shopping made me hate myself. Immature teenage boys either laughed at me, or harassed me. I was ashamed, and prayed endlessly for a break.

Which was why when a handsome, successful looking man in armor with a muscular bodybuilder walked in, I quickly stepped in and loaded on the sugar with my "southern belle" routine. How was I supposed to know his wife had just died? All I wanted was an end to my misery. When he called me several words I couldn't really understand due to his lingo, I still knew they were bad. I hid my hurt by coating more honey on with lines such as "My ears are burnin, baby." They both ran away, and I sighed. I should've known that it wouldn't work...This life of mine showed no mercy.

Author's Note: I wanted to write this to glorify the Nikeah prostitute a little. I always feel bad for the prostitutes in stories/games, and no one dwells on her at all. Instead of everyone thinking she's trashy, I'd like someone to feel sorry for her like I do, which is why I wrote this. Any comments/complaints, please contact me at Aeris104@hotmail.com