The Room

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Non-Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
A girl locked in a room for a mysterious and heart breaking purpose.

Submitted: June 01, 2015

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Submitted: June 01, 2015

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The room is quiet except for the loud ticking of the pink, floral clock. The windows of the room are all shut, with heavy curtains blocking the sunlight. The door on the far end of the room is locked from the outside. On the right side of the door stands a white dresser with a large mirror. On the left side of the door is a large coat hanger, except, instead of holding coats; it holds dozens of scarves. A box of chocolates is on the floor in one corner of the room, untouched and nearing expiration.  There is a large bookshelf along the wall that contains no books, only a collection of framed pictures.

In the room stands a single bed. And on that bed is a girl.  She touches the white dress she wears, hoping that this one will last. The seconds tick loudly on the clock. The call to prayer fills the outside world from a nearby mosque. Soon it will be time.

The door unlocks and the mother walks in carrying a bowl of water. She is dressed in an old abaya, and grey hairs are poking out of her loose head scarf. She places the bowl under the bed and sits by the girl. ‘You already know what this is for by now. After they are finished, you wash yourself, understood?’

The girl nods her head ‘I remember.’

‘Good girl. Clients will be arriving soon. And after today, we will be able to buy you a new frame. Isn’t that good news?’

‘Yes,’ said the girl, looking at her collection of pictures. The blue frame, in the middle of the shelf, has a picture of a small beach house with a girl picking up seashells by the shore. The green frame, to the right of the blue, has a meadow with a pretty girl dancing in the sun with flowers in her hair. She pictures herself collecting seashells at the beach, and dancing around the meadow with flowers in her hair. The prayer is slowly coming to an end. The girl starts unconsciously scratching her arm, digging her nails into her skin.

‘Stop that!’ The mother grabbing her hand and wrenching it away ‘Do you want me to use the scarves again?’

‘No,’ the girl shakes her head.

‘Then don’t scratch yourself, girl. You need to be soft and smooth for the clients. Why do you think they pay so much for you? If they see scars on your skin, they won’t want you, and we will starve. Do you understand?’

The girl nods her head ‘Yes, I understand.’ She looks back at her pictures. The world becomes quiet again outside. Her heart quickens. It is time. Most of the pictures are old and faded. It makes her happy to think that she can finally have a new frame. Deep voices come from outside of the room.

‘Your father must have let the first client in. Remember to be a good girl and do as you’re told. Smile to them, they like it when you smile.  And remember,’ she reaches into her bosom, ‘they must always put this on,’ she places a small, thin, square packet on the bed next to the girl. She gets up and walks towards the door. ‘Be a good girl, do as you’re told, and smile.’ Then she leaves, locking the door behind her.

A few minutes later, the lock on the door turns, the girl’s heart beat faster and louder, blocking out the loud ticking sound of the clock. 


© Copyright 2020 Jasminka. All rights reserved.

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