Comfort Women

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Literary Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
Based on a true story in WW2 and on a true solider! ! A young solider looses his head and takes the wrong path...

Submitted: October 29, 2011

A A A | A A A

Submitted: October 29, 2011




Comfort Women

Scene One: The Devil’s Glare

At the end of a darkened alley way that appears to begin nowhere, an old and dilapidated building stands alone on an empty street. No sound can be heard except for the eerie, painful howling of the ancient trees that stand over the isolated building watching men enter into the mouth of the forbidden cave, then coming out with their minds dipped in dreaded sins. As you stand outside the building, an unusual sensation takes possesses you, a cold hand grips your shoulder and drags you towards the building. As you get closer and closer to the building, your ears are seduced by the powerful sound of music. Your nose is tickled with the sweet smell of liquor that creeps out into the chilling, damp air. Desires severs your nerves and conscience, while pleasure takes hold of your hand as you willing allow it to guide you into the a pit of sin…

The brothels main room is lit with a mysterious, blood red light that gives the room a sickly warm feel. To the far left of the room is a grotty bar with several grotty old men leaning against the bar, their filthy eyes travel up and down the bodies of the young women serving them. In the centre of the room is a small stage with a chorus of young, attractive women dancing seductive around pairs and poles. A handful of Japanese soldiers seat near the edge of the extended apron leering, in a predator like manner, some held guns in their hands or had them lying on the edge of the stage resulting the young women’s eyes falling onto the guns, panic and terror stain their face. The soldiers lick their lips in a hunger fashions at their fixated stares lock on the women.

In a small, isolated corner sits a young man alone at the small, crooked wooden table where he clutches a small glass of whisky. The young Japanese Solider, Yasuji Kaneko, was tall and gangly looking with purple shadows under his eyes that gave the impression of vast, sunken eye sockets. He too watched the seductive dancing, yet his main focus was on the lead dancer, Chunhua.

The dance ends, and the girls leave the stage and join the men watching them.

Yasuji: mumbling, I need to see her. I need to see her. He whispers this frantically to himself; leaving the table.

He watches Elizabeth as she reaches the stage door. He staggers over to her.

Yasuji: Excuse me. She acknowledges him for a brief second. You were- were…

Chunua: She stifles an impatient sigh. I’m sorry, I have to – she points at the door and begins moving towards it.

Yasuji: Steps in her way. What I’m try to say, you…you are –

Chunhua: Look, I really have to leave. I’m sorry. Impatience wavers in her voice.

She tries to curve her body around his to reach for the handle. Her hair brushes lightly against his face. Harry closes his eyes and tilts his head slightly to sniff her fragranced hair. Chunhua is unaware of this, her hands reaches the handle and turns it. She pulls away. Yasuji’s eyes flash with anger, his lips twitch viciously. His hand grabs her wrist and tares it away the handle and twists it, Chunhua gasps in pain. Her face fills with fear.

Chunhua: What are you doing? Please

Yasuji: Through gritted teeth I am trying to talk to you. You will listen.

A tall, muscular man appears at the side of the scene. He has long black hair tied back into a sleek pony tail with well defined facial features.

Kaori: a deep, firm voice Let her go. He stand between the two causing Harry to break away from Chuahua.

Yasuji: You’re standing up for a chink?

Kaori: Don’t make a scene Kaori.

Yasuji: She’s a whore! That’s all she’s good for!

Kaori:  Leave. His eyes flash dangerously.

Before backing away Yasuji eyes up Chuanua, who cowers behind Kaori.  


Scene Two – Dare Not To

Chua sits in front of a vintage dressing table. She admires her reflection in an old mirror that has rust gathering in each of its corners, small specks of dirt sit under the surface distorting the reflection of Chuanua. Just at the edge of the mirror stands a old and cracked vase with a single rose in with withered and tired petals. She sits with an erect posture extending out her chest; she unties her hair allowing it to fall down and trail along her back. Yasuji lurks behind the changing room door, peering behind a small crack in the door. His eyes linger on her as Chuanua stands up and begins slowly taking off a layer of clothing and allowing it to fall to the floor gracefully. Yauji’s eyes trail up and down her body lustfully, he opens the doors a little bit more, slithering into the room silently, lurking in the deep and darkened shadows.

He steps forward, shadows still covering his face.

Yasuji: Bravo! He claps his hands slowly

Chuanua jumps in fright, her eyes wide, she covers her semi-naked body with her hands

Chuanua: startled, small whispers W-who are you

Yasuji: stepping closer You were belle! Just…beautiful. On ‘beautiful’ Yasuji is just a single step away from Chuanua

Chuanua: Who are you? You shouldn’t be back here. She begins to slowly back away, quickly bending down to pick up her garments to cover her body with.

Yasuji: You don’t remember me?…He choke a cold laugh

Chuanua: she pulls her head back, and lift it slightly narrowing her eyes. Realisation hits home. Her widen in fear. You. You were the man from before. The one -

Yasuji: He steps out from the shadows, he stands directly in front of Chuanua who is cowering against the wall You wouldn’t listen to me.

Chuanua: I’m sorry, I had leave.

Yasuji: I only wanted to take a little bit of your time. That was all. Is that really too much? He move further forward till he has Chuanua pressed against the wall.

Chuanua: I am sorry. But, you-you can’t be here. Kaori does not allow… If he found out…

Yasuji: K will not find out, will he? He presses his body against Chuanua, who cringes away

Chuanua: You can’t be here! Kaori would be so -

Yasuji: Yasuji’s eyes flash with burning anger. With strong rage, he grabs Chuanua by the shoulders and slams her against the wall violently, Chuanua’s winces in pain. Listen, you slut. Konstance will not find out, because you will not be telling him. Tomorrow you are going to meet me here at night. You will miss tomorrows show, and come straight here. If anyone asks you why you are not there, you will tell them you’re ill and want to be alone. Do you understand? He hisses these in Chuanua’s ear

Chuanua: Through anxious breaths and if I don’t?

Yasuji: He drags a finger along Chuanua’s red lips and along her neck. I’ll kill you myself.

Scene Three: The Curtian Falls

Chuanua sits alone in her changing room wearing a traditional Chinese Cheongsam, once again sat behind her dressing room table, but this time her eyes avoid the mirror which has gathered more specks of filth and dirt under the surface, she sits hunched with her arms around her body. The rose under the mirror is withered even more, only a few petals remain on the flower. The lighting is dark and harrowing; the only light comes from a flickering candle sat in alone in the corner of the dressing room table, slowly fading.

Chuanua sits in silence, her arms cradling her own body. A low knocking comes from behind the door.

Yasuji creeps through the gap of the door into the room silently, and stands behind Chuanua whose head in bowed down. He stands motionless behind her like a deadly shadow, his eye pierce into the back of her head.

Yasuji: he runs his skeleton fingers through her hair and lowers his head and smells the lock of hair. Beautiful…

Chuanua: Her head raises slowly, her eyes wide in fear and her chest rising and falling rapidly. Please don’t She pulls her out of his grip and pulls it around of his way. I -

Yasuji: Shush.

Chuanua: She steps away from the seat and tries to back away Yasuji. I don’t want to do this. Please don’t make me do this.

Yasuji: You will do as I say tonight.

He steps towards her, his eyes running up and down her body. He takes her arms and raises her arms and pins them against the wall pressing him against her. Chuanua flinches underneath his touch against her skin.

Yasuji: Stop it you slut!

As Chuanua writhes against Yasuji he clutches at her dress and tares it in fury.

Chuanua: Stop! NO! Help!

Yasuji: gags her mouth him his hand. Don’t you dare, you whore!

Chuanua claws at Yasuji’s face drawing blood, Yasuji roars, spits, hisses like a possessive cobra. He moves his hands from her mouth and brings them down to her neck and held down till her body twitched and quivered.

Yasuji: Go back to you where you belong. 

© Copyright 2017 bella2009. All rights reserved.

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