untitled and unfinished

untitled and unfinished

Status: In Progress

Genre: Other

Houses:

Details

Status: In Progress

Genre: Other

Houses:

Summary

please keep in mind this story is still in the very early stages of being written and will be subject to a lot of editing in the near future.
___________________________

held under lock and key her entire childhood, sana sohma (or so she has come to be known as), was finally transferred to a permanent home in rural japan. little does she know that she had been purchased as a house pet to a wealthy man. eager to escape the dark depths of her reality, sana reaches out to her old family only to be discouraged and shunned. she fears for not only the life of her younger sister but now she fears for the lives of her two-year-old daughter and unborn child. she is just fifteen years old.
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Summary

please keep in mind this story is still in the very early stages of being written and will be subject to a lot of editing in the near future.
___________________________

held under lock and key her entire childhood, sana sohma (or so she has come to be known as), was finally transferred to a permanent home in rural japan. little does she know that she had been purchased as a house pet to a wealthy man. eager to escape the dark depths of her reality, sana reaches out to her old family only to be discouraged and shunned. she fears for not only the life of her younger sister but now she fears for the lives of her two-year-old daughter and unborn child. she is just fifteen years old.

Chapter1 (v.1) - The Client

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: March 23, 2017

Reads: 35

A A A | A A A

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: March 23, 2017

A A A

A A A

Some children may be foolish enough to wish upon a star and believe it'll come true. I am not one of those children.

In fact, I don't even think what I had for a childhood can be compared to that of an average child. I never played outside, attended school, or felt the gentle breeze as it moved along the ocean. I didn't even talk to many other children. Well, not really.

I see them run down the street, these normal kids, full of life and innocence. They shout and play, race each other down the block to the park, laugh amongst themselves. Whenever I see them it fills my heart with sorrow, for what they have is the childhood I yearn for, yet it is what I can never have for myself.

My childhood had passed as quickly as it had appeared. All too soon the happy times were replaced with fear, pain, loneliness and guilt. I don't even remember a time where I was truly happy. Actually, I'm not even certain of what my name is. I do have a name, but I don't think it's the name my birth parents gave to me.

The name given to me is Sana. Sana Sohma. The man that gave it to me didn't tell me anything else about the name or the family I was forced to leave behind. Either he didn't know anything himself for or he didn't want to say. Both options frustrated me, to be honest. All I know about my family I know from looking at my reflection. I was thin and fair-skinned with wavy brown hair and brown eyes. 

Compared to the other girls, I was quite plain. I had no curves or anything that would set me apart from the rest. I didn't really mind the fact that I didn't have much to my body- it meant I was less popular with men. I didn't have to worry as much about men renting and defiling me as they did with the others.

However, it was a double-edged sword. If I didn't attract customers and make money for the company I wouldn't get to eat or shower, which didn't help my lack of curves or appearance. 

There were several children and adolescents in what was collectively known as The Company. It was a large group of frightening men whose main objective was taking kids away from their families and renting them out to perverted men for profit. Although they also kidnapped boys, the girls proved more popular to be leased and sold. Our purpose was to provide pleasure to strange men to satisfy their cruel urges. Boys had specific duties to perform, from grooming over us girls to ensure a profit to learning the Company's trade.

About once a month, the men in charge of overseeing The Company came through the hall and evaluated us. There were fourteen girls imprisoned in my hall; the youngest being five and the oldest being eleven. I didn't understand the purpose of them being here. They never said much, only walking through every stall and inspecting each of us. They would glance down at a clipboard in their hands and scrawl notes on a sheet of paper, leaving without giving an explanation. I would hear them making their rounds to the other stalls.

Suddenly, the door to my stall opened, shaking me from my thoughts. A middle-aged man stood before me wearing loosely fitted jeans with stains along the front and a baggy crimson t-shirt. His square-framed glasses covered his pale, blue eyes, making him look more intimidating. I recognized him as the man I spent most of my time with during the leasing nights. His name was Mr. Poole, although he didn't prefer that. When we met, he told me to call him Oniisan, the Japanese word for Big Brother. 

"Time to get ready," he instructed in his monotoned voice, barely peering up from the clipboard he held in his well-manicured hands. I held my breath momentarily as a wave of fear and dread shot down my spine, rendering my legs useless and shaky. Those were the words he used only when someone had a client to get ready for. I tried to gulp but found my throat parched. 

"H-how long do I have..." my quiet voice had managed to squeak out, "before I have to perform?" Tears formed in my eyes, but I blinked them back. I hated showing a weakness of any kind. 

"The usual fifteen minutes," Oniisan huffed in annoyance as he fumbled with the clunky keyring on his belt loop. 

Oniisan was the man in charge of everyone in The Company.  His main duty was organizing the hosting nights- an evening where every girl dressed up and attended a fancy room with a catwalk in the center. We were forced to parade and pose in barely any clothing while the adults partied and bid. We were a candy store, and the clients were the children pouring in with cash. Our job was to appear marketable as we waited for the green light to come on above the announcer's booth. Once it did, we knew it was time to exit the catwalk and be escorted to a room called the 'hosting room'. None of us liked that room.

I snapped out of my pacing thoughts as I heard the faint click of my metal restraints unlocking. My heart beat a little faster with Oniisan closer to me than I felt comfortable. From this closeness, his cologne's pungent odor assaulted my nostrils, and I couldn't help but throw up a little inside my mouth.

My arms were exhausted from the heavy, metal restraint cuffs. They hit the wood paneling behind me with a loud thud, but it was a minor injury compared to what I was going to face that night. The muscles in my arms ached from holding the weight for so long, and I winced for as Oniisan removed the restraint cuffs from my tender wrists. I sighed inwardly as I brought them to my chest, shielding them from further harm before I slowly stood to my feet.

"Honestly, Sana. I haven't got all day," he grumbled, already on his feet. The door was held open for me, an annoyed expression on Oniisan's face. 

I inhaled deeply as I tried to ready myself for what I knew was going to happen. No matter how hard I tried, I shuddered every time I had to leave the stall to get ready for these nights. Terror ran through my body, turning my nerves and muscles to ice. I couldn't move; I didn't want those eyes being on me. 

Another annoyed huff came from his direction as he grabbed my wrist tightly with one of his hands, the other one gripping his clipboard with so much force the wood threatened to crack under the pressure. He tugged me along like a rolling suitcase with one of its wheels broken. 

I heard his voice droning on in the background as my thoughts raced one hundred miles a minute. Too many memories all hit me at once. They were so similar that they melded into one, continuous nightmare: the coldness of the water sprayed on us, the prying eyes of the men as they hosed us off. That was only the beginning. They would throw bits of stale, and often times moldy, bread for us to gorge down while we were forced to dry naked as they watched. The sight of our frail bodies desperately downing the sickly bread filled their disturbing appetite. All us were insanely skinny; our bones were easily visible. We detested how desperate we became when we were tossed the pieces of bread, but we had to force it down our throats. It was means of survival.

Even though there were thirteen other girls in my hall, none of us spoke to each other. At least, not in front of the men. We would be beaten and shouted at if they caught us speaking to each other because they thought we would band together to escape. They weren't wrong about that. 

"I know you can hear me," Oniisan's hissed, forcing my attention back to my current reality. I cringed, not wanting him to strike me as he has in the past. "Sana, answer the question or you'll go without food for a week."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Oniisan..." I replied somewhat innocently, keeping my gaze on the floorboards below our feet. 

"Have you been talking to the boys again? Gin told me over breakfast how he heard whispering coming from your stall. The last thing I need is to have you become a problem for me," he threatened. There was a bit of hope in his voice, though, that I would become a problem. Although getting rid of problems meant losing money, it brought a twisted thrill to the men.
They delivered the same punishment to every child who tried tricking the system- beating and stoning us to death. A group of men, from most elite to the bottom of the food chain, would throw us on the floor, toss rocks at our ribs and stomach, and bash our skull in. Blood spewed onto the walls, and the crunch of our bones breaking echoed through the stalls. 

I bit my lip, my eyes focusing on the floorboards. A lone cockroach crawled out from a small crack in between and turned to face me, its antennae flicking a couple times before it scurried off. How I longed to be that cockroach.


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