Black Flies on the Windowsill (Elyse) [Trigger]

[Elyse Blackburn]

A lump was beginning to grow in the back of Elyse's throat, practically choking the air right out of her. A culmination of overhelming exhaustion, stress and sheer terror had taken over her feeble figure and forced her to tightly grip onto a counter behind her. He was so close. His hot breath, tainted with cheap liqueur and cigarette smoke embraced her like a ghostly fog, pulling her into his lewd gaze like he had the nights she was told to please him.

Good girl! Now, you better fit it all in!

His voice echoed in her head, sending a spasm of guilt ridden disgust throughout the core of her body. Elyse submitted and did as she was told that night all for some cash, the very principles of it all horrifying her even further. Did she deserve this treatment? The question had lingered in the back of her mind ever since she became a working girl and this unruly gentleman was just one of the individuals who made her hate her job.

"Why areeee you h-here *hick*? Shouldn't you...shouldn't you be sucking on some c-cock down the road?" The man grumbled, scratching his belly as he let out a low sigh, his horrid breath wafting all over her. Elyse shuddered, not daring to face the other girl in this momen of shame. How could she face anyone after this?

But it seemed she was somewhat lucky, if the red headed girl were not pregnant who knows what might've happened? Elyse let out a strained whimper as the girl stood between them, eyes wide with shock horror as she told the oafish man off. Why was she doing this? Elyse couldn't risk the safety of someone, a customer especially, in her own personal problems but she was simply too weak and terrified to even protest. It seemed she had a guardian angel.

"W-well...excuse me! She's the ch-cheap whore who begged me...begged me to choose her...", he slurred, pointing a stubby finger in the direction of Elyse. It was partly true, she had to play the act as a coy little princess but his drunk mind was clearly exaggerating what had actually occurred on their first night, she was still naive back then. The grotesque fellow continued, taking a step back as if to spite the girl. "What are *hick* you huh? Her w-whore friend-d?" He growled, wrinkling his nose before letting out a burp.

Before the man could continue heavy footsteps echoed from behind the kitchen wall, the clattering of metal striking the atmosphere like a cymbal. Almost on cue Juan the silent chef hobbled around the corner, a large cleaver in his right hand. His heavy brow was furrowed and his beefy arms rippled with grease. He didn't look happy. "You. Talk about my customers like that again and I'll cut out your tongue." He uttered, his darkly accented words sending a frightened shiver down Elyse's spine. She had never seen Juan like this before, let alone show any emotion other than his usual nonchalance. The portly chef took a step forward, brushing past Elyse and forcing her behind him. Nodding to the red headed girl to do the same he stared the drunkard right in the eye, his puffy lips snarled like a bear. "Out. Now!" He ordered, jabbing the cleaver in the direction of the door.

"...urgh...fuck, f-fuck you! And your *hick* whores!" The man stammered, stumbling backwards to get out of the way of the knife. Shooting a glare at Elyse, who was practically cowering behind the chef, he let out a ghastly chuckle. "I'll be v-visiting you soon you little slu -"

"OUT!" Juan bellowed, stomping his foot and forcing the terrified waitress to jump with surprise. Such a large man with a big blade could scare anyone, and her 'customer' saw it fit to scamper away, only choosing to spit on the floor as he did so. Once the chef had locked the door he turned around to the red headed girl, a grimace on his face. "Your meal tonight is free...I am sorry. Would you be willing to take her home?" He asked quietly, almost kindly, his accented words rolling off his tongue in a strange fashion.

"W-wait...I...I'm okay, really she doesn't need to worry about me...", Elyse stammered, practically holding onto the counter for dear life. Her face was pale and her limbs shook like the bones had been stripped out of them, she couldn't accept a ride from a stranger...but then again, the only other option was walking home and at this time of night that probably wasn't the wisest thing to do. She was tired and scared, but she couldn't become a burden for a girl who seemed burdened enough. The young woman attempted to put on a brave face but the moisture in her eyes and trembling lips were enough to give her away. She had never felt fear like this in a long time.

Glancing at the girl Elyse bit her lip, taking in a deep breath before looking down, completely humiliated. "I'm sorry you had to hear that...", she whispered, shamefaced and broken. This was all too much, especially for a girl who simply wanted pancakes.

[Noa Reese]

The more the man spoke, the more Noa wanted to punch him. She was about to say yes, she was this girl's 'whore friend' - she wasn't ashamed of a title like that, and sometimes considered herself one, anyway - but the noise from the kitchen distracted all of them. At first, Noa was worried, indignant that this poor girl could be fired just because of the words of some no-good drunk, but then her heart lifted as the chef singled out the drunk. She gratefully let him step before her, falling back with the waitress behind him.

This guy was exceedingly intimidating, and Noa was glad he was on their side. She was already braced for a conflict, but she still jerked a bit as the large man let out a resounding bellow. She calmed her nerves as the drunk left, letting out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

"Your meal tonight is free...I am sorry. Would you be willing to take her home?"
"W-wait...I...I'm okay, really she doesn't need to worry about me..."

Noa nodded to the chef, her endorphins high, and her previous lows were all but forgotten in the wake of this violent outburst. She'd been filled with righteous indignation, and it still coursed through her, making her glare out the door. She did, at least, have the (horribly selfish and self-centered, she observed, bitterly) sense to glance at her car which - thankfully - remained untouched. She felt like a bitch for worrying about it, though, with this girl still trembling beside her.

"I'm sorry you had to hear that..."

Noa shook her head, still fuming quietly. "That guy is a dick." She growled, lamely. She had so much more to say about him, but she couldn't even find the words, she was so filled with resentment. She took a gulp of the tea, wincing a bit at it's unpleasant taste, but trying to calm herself down. She turned back to the waitress, wanting to say so much, but not wanting to add to her stress. At least, not yet. Let her calm down a bit. "I'm Noa, by the way." She held out a hand in grim greeting, a little upset that this was how they had to introduce themselves.

[Elyse Blackburn]

Cradling her arms against her chest Elyse let out a low whimper, sniffling away the tears as she stared at her feet, not wanting to look the portly chef in the eyes. She always had an inkling that he knew what her other job was, that some paranoid figment of her soul had caught onto his knowledge of the shameful career. Juan never brought it up, but his movements were wary, as if he knew that she was too fragile and weak to handle the stress of the rush hour crowds.

Glancing at the girl beside her Elyse allowed a weak sigh to pass over her lips, scratching her upper arms as she looked over the beautiful girl's features. How could she ever repay thus stranger for getting involved in her mess? It was embarrassing and just plain wrong and Elyse would have almost immediately rejected the ride him if it weren't for her utter paranoia that the man was still around.

Noa, that was a pretty name and the young women tried her best to smile even when the unfortunate introduction was made. Taking a tentative step forward, the girl slowly allowed her trembling feet to bring her closer to the Noa, keeping her head low and eyes fixed on the floor. No one had cared for her name before and it came as a blistering shock for someone so immaculate to even bother introducing themself. "I'm Elyse, I uhh...yeah, I'm sorry if you don't want to take me..." She whispered, biting her lip as she clenched her dainty hands around the edges of her apron.

With a quick glance over to the knife wielding chef Elyse took in a deep breath, attempting to regain her composure as she formed some quivering words to escape her throat. "Are you sure...? I don't finish till seven." She asked, pursing her lips as she looked at some specks of mess still around the little diner.

Juan did nothing more than nod, waving her off and motioning for the girl to make her leave. Even if he wasn't the friendliest individual he clearly knew when his waitress was too exhausted to continue working. "Take the day off tomorrow. I'll send over your pay with some mail." He huffed, his gravelly voice scraping over the air like sandpaper. Elyse simply nodded, actually relieved she was granted a day off...but still a bit guilty that it was because she had not covered her tracks well enough.

"I don't live far from here...just passed the car yard on the east side." She quietly said to Noa, fidgeting with her little purse like it was her lifeline. It didn't even have anything of exceptional value to her, just some medication, condoms and a cheap phone but its texture had been a comfort to her ever since she bought it with her first pay all those years ago. It had survived all this time alongside the broken waitress. The eastern end of the car yard was a dingy area, littered with broken families and the occasional drug mule but it was too boring to provide any danger that Pilot Ridge's red light district could offer.

"I can pay for gas money if its out of your way..." Elyse proposed, knowing full well that any money going to pay for petrol would be half of what she currently had on hand. But if it meant making the less trouble for this kind girl then so be it.

[Noa Reese]

Elyse's meekness both concerned and annoyed Noa. She didn't want to blame the victim, but she had so much to say! This girl needed to learn to stand up for herself, to push back, to be her own advocate. But she also felt sorry that the waitress had to go through such an ordeal. It was obvious that many of this girl's choices had been made out of necessity rather than desire, and the thought tugged at her throat, wanting to prompt a thoroughly frustrated crying session, but she forced it away.

"I'm Elyse, I uhh...yeah, I'm sorry if you don't want to take me..."

How could she even think that? After all Noa had done, why would she stop trying to help this girl now? Did Elyse have no faith in her? Well, perhaps she didn't. She'd basically said as much earlier. Not much faith in humanity in general. Noa bit her tongue, though, allowing the girl to make her plea to the chef, and be excused. She wasn't able to keep the frustrated look off of her face, chewing on her lips, still furious at the man who'd accosted them.

"I don't live far from here...just past the car yard on the east side."

Noa nodded, "It's really not a problem at all," she assured the girl, even as she offered gas money. Guilt was nibbling at her conscience; upper-middle class guilt, that she had so much more than this girl did. Her brow was still furrowed as they made their way to her car, trying to parse out exactly what she was feeling and what she wanted to say. There was so much buzzing in her head, so many opposing emotions that were so strong, it was hard to sort them out.

She clicked her keys, unlocking the doors to her car, and gave Elyse an apologetic closed lip smile, letting out a heavy sigh of breath, as if to acknowledge that they couldn't change what had happened, as she gestured that the door was open. All she wanted to do right now was get this girl help. Whatever it took. But she wanted to be an ally. She didn't want to force this girl into anything she didn't want to do - it was clear that that happened in the rest of her life. It was all just so unfair, and the injustice of it, the injustice of life itself, made her want to scream. Instead, she opened the door of her car and closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath, before getting in.

There were so many things gusting through her mind, it was like a tornado of emotions and advice and gut reactions. She wanted so badly to talk to this girl, to learn her story, to learn how she could help, but she didn't Elyse to feel attacked, trapped in a car. She didn't want to be that crazy person, holding the girl hostage. Still, questions pulled her in all directions.

Starting the car, she cleared her throat, licking her lips as she attempted to talk without pressuring the waitress. "....I want to help." That was the best she could manage? She tried to clarify, carefully. "I don't want you to feel obligated to tell me anything you aren't comfortable with, but-" She tried to organize her thoughts into sentences, but it was more difficult than usual. She took a deep breath, and tried again. "...No one should be able to treat you like that. Even if he pays you, you are a professional, doing things by your rules. You set boundaries, and it's his job to respect them - to respect you. ...You need to report this guy. Do you have anyone who can help you do that?"

[Elyse Blackburn]

The teary eyed waitress was quick to gather her scarce belongings and slink out the door right behind the pretty red-haired girl. Elyse's gaze was firmly stuck to her feet, teeth clamped onto her lower lip in an attempt to quell the quivering whimpers that trickled in the back of her throat. This entire situation could have been avoided had she taken extra precautions, maybe even just disappear into the kitchen and wait for the drunkard to leave. But of course that wouldn't have happened.

Even though Noa reassured her that this small act of charity was of no problem Elyse still felt a nagging annoyance deep within the pit of her soul. She had nothing to offer this girl and yet was sill being treated like an actual human being.

She was careful with entering the car, it was strangely ironic considering that whenever she did get into a stranger's vehicle it was because they'd paid her to and nothing else. After shaking her head and keeping her hand tightly clenched around her purse the porcelain skinned waif sunk into her seat, ensuring she took up no room whatsoever.

It was awkward to say the least. There was no incentive to begin small talk, especially after what happened but a nagging voice berated her for making Noa do this. But the redheaded girl seemingly took the first step and Elyse was left shivering from her honesty.

She wanted to help?

Elyse listened with a blank expression, her glazed eyes staring out of the window as Noa appealed to some moral duty to protect her. Why did she want to help? This was silly, what was she going to gain from it all?

...You need to report this guy. Do you have anyone who can help you do that?

The young woman instantly felt a cold shiver embrace her chest. It was a cruel reminder, one which forced her to blink silent tears as she sniffled away. Why was this stranger doing this? Elyse wasn't entirely sure when she began to cry again but soon enough she crumpled into herself, quiet sobs breaking the air as she desperately tried to cover her face.

How did she know?

"No..." Elyse whispered, her trembling lips loathing the bitter word that dropped out of her mouth. She had no one. No one to save her from this life that was thrust onto her, there was no point in lying. Apparently it was good to cry sometimes.

[Noa Reese]

The girl's tears sent a shock of pain through Noa, and she bit her lip, blinking away tears herself, focusing on her anger instead of the empathetic helplessness she felt for Elyse. She felt her throat burning, begging her to just break down, and found it very hard to speak. She had to clear her throat three times before she was sure her voice wouldn't crack. It probably wasn't the best idea to be driving in this state.

In an attempt to steer away from the emotional, she focused on the logistics. "How do you find clients?" She asked, hoping her voice wasn't shaking - though she doubted that the crying waitress would notice if it were. "Is there anyone screening them for you? Or are you using the internet, or some sort of escort service?" Her tone wasn't accusatory, but it wasn't coddling either. It was blunt and to the point, but with a gentle edge, trying to suss out where the problem had originated. She wasn't entirely sure how she could help - she didn't personally have any experience in sex work, she just knew people who did - but she was hoping that what she knew of safety and security might apply, so she wouldn't be left feeling in over her head.

[Elyse Blackburn]

Elyse remembered her first night like it was only yesterday; the sounds, smells and sensations burnt into her psyche to the point that she shuddered to even think how many clients she had taken since. But as much as the young woman wanted to ignore it she knew, she remembered every sweaty face, every lust riddled confession whispered into her mouth by the voices of dishonest husbands and perverted business men. Each man marked a new wound into her fragile bones, a relentless entourage that lingered in the attic of her mind.

Why had she started this line of work in the first place? Why was it only now that she could release her torment in front of another person?

Her mind was ablaze, it was excruciating, especially when she was so exhausted and fatigued. Every sob burnt the back of her throat, her skinny body trembling with hopelessness, exhaustion and rage.

Noa's torrent of questions were jarring, plunging deeper into a lifestyle that Elyse would much rather leave behind closed doors. For a moment she sat in silence, sniffling away and keeping her slender arms close to her chest, she felt vulnerable. Even when clothed and in the safety of the girl's car Elyse could not shake off the unwanted feeling of paranoia. Why did the girl want to know so badly?

Shaking her head Elyse stated up at the roof of the car, allowing her gaze to get engulfed in the dim grey hue. She didn't know how to answer, she wasn't exactly sure if she wanted to either. But Noa had extended the gift of kindness unseen for a very long time and the waitress slumped backwards, ensuring her eyes were on anything but the girl next to her.

"...it's...it's a brothel." She whispered, biting her lip as the trickling tears seeped into her mouth, the warm saltiness tingled her tongue. For several seconds that all she said, mulling over whatever else Noa wanted to know. Maybe she was a young journalist trying to get a scoop on sex work, but then again...that was just conspiracy. Furrowing her brow Elyse clenched her hands before continuing. "They come in...and my...boss takes the money and th-they choose who they want." And as the records over the past five months have shown, Elyse was very popular with the clientele. Young, beautiful and completely submissive.

A bitter taste rolled over her tongue at the confession, swamping her mouth with the vile sensation. This was hard, after five months of working in that place she could have grown accustomed to it all, maybe even enjoyed it. But Elyse couldn't, no matter how promising the money was or how gentle the occasional client would be. It was all a painful ruse, one which masked the great sense of failure running rampant in her heart. What would her father think of her now?

[Noa Reese]

Noa's throat tightened as Elyse shifted, avoiding looking directly at the other girl in respect of her privacy. She felt awful. It probably wasn't something the girl ever wanted to discuss, and yet Noa was asking her to. But how else could she help? There were two ways to help; an open ear and an outstretched hand, and, at least in this case, Noa preferred the latter. She wanted to do something.

"...it's...it's a brothel."

They still had those? Noa's brow furrowed, trying to determine what exactly the waitress meant by that, but a moment later the girl elaborated.

"They come in...and my...boss takes the money and th-they choose who they want."

Christ, wasn't there a better way of doing these things? Noa was grasping at straws, not knowing much about the business of brothels, but she knew for sure that whoever was running Elyse's was doing something wrong. In her point of view, sex work was often a public service - for people who had low self-esteem, or who were in sexless marriages, or who's partners were ill or had passed, making them unable to meet their needs sexually, or for people too ashamed of their sexual interests to admit it to anyone, or people who were handicapped and unable to find a partner - but there were those who took advantage of that service. People who didn't need it, or deserve it, and shamed sex workers for their generosity.

She shook her head, the taste of blood filling her mouth as she bit her tongue angrily. "You can't let clients like him come back. Sexual abuse is sexual abuse. You should be able to tell your-" Madame? Pimp? Neither of those words seemed appropriate. "-boss that he crossed a line, and he should be denied service. In any other profession, that kind of behavior would have someone blacklisted, sex work shouldn't be any different." Her words were bitter, angry at a flawed system.

If sex work weren't illegal, these sorts of things wouldn't be able to slide. If sex workers feared law enforcement, they would never feel comfortable reporting abuse, rape, and other incidents to the police. The system and the stigma gave clients an upper hand that they didn't deserve. In a perfect world, clients would be vetted and approved, and would be held responsible if they crossed a boundary. In some places, it worked like that. But apparently Elyse's brothel wasn't one of those places.

"You should never feel forced into sex work." She added, an edge to her voice. "It should always be your choice. Your body; your choice."

There was so much more she wanted to know - was there a support system for the sex workers? How were they paid? What was the process a client had to go through? Were there rules of the brothel? Were there consequences? What sort of person was their boss, was he/she taking advantage? Were they paid fairly? There was so much she wanted to ask, but she had already made this girl uncomfortable enough, and her own curiosity wasn't enough of an excuse to interrogate her.

"If I give you some websites to look at, will you check them out?" She asked, seriously, turning up her power to determine if the girl were telling the truth or not.

[Elyse Blackburn]

In truth Elyse had never opened up to someone about her nightlife, about those tireless hours pleasuring men and the occasional woman and how it all affected her. The confession burnt against her lips, feeling like bile against her tongue as she weakly attempted to make sense of the scenario. Part of her wanted to get out of the car at that instant, hoping to forget everything that had happened that night and go on living her mediocre life. The other half of her wanted to release every pent up feeling that had spread inside her fragile body ever since she had turned fourteen. Yes, the waifish female had not spoken of her feelings in several years. But her survivalist instinct screeched at her to halt, to not fall in too deep with a complete stranger and to back away as soon as possible. She had endured five months of working at the brothel, what were another five more? She was making money, some clients were even nice enough to bring her dinner and others simply wanted a girl to hold during the cold nights alone. Elyse provided those services with a figment of joy, she actually felt some twisted form of belonging in the arms of her nicer customers, those who'd whisper nice words into her ears and would pamper her with affection.

But...that was it. No amount of justification could outweigh just how bad her situation was. Polite clients were few and far between, others simply took her without a word and left with little more than a stunted 'goodbye' and then there was the pack of lustful mongrels who would do near anything and everything to sate their most darkest fantasies with her.

Listening to Noa felt exceptionally disconcerting, especially since she was part of the world the redheaded beauty seemingly knew so much about. In an idealistic world everything that was said could have been easily accomplished, but that was not the reality of it all. Mankind was flawed race and any weaker member was bound to get tossed aside and abused, especially those who did not fight back. Fighting back only led to pain and the puckered scar on her arm was more than enough to cement such a belief.

"You know only a little about what goes on..." Elyse whispered, finally breaking her silence with a statement that wasn't meant to startle but to inform. Taking in a deep breath she weakly stared at the well intentioned girl and forced a shadow of smile to cross her lips, hoping to retain what was left of her pride and quell any tension. She did not have the strength to divulge any further than was necessary, especially not so late at night like this anyways. Gingerly wiping away the moisture that covered her cheeks Elyse let out a strained sigh, keeping her eyes on a street light not too far away.

If I give you some websites to look at, will you check them out?

Now that one shouldn't of come as a surprise, of course the redhead was going to play junior counsellor. Elyse pursed her lips momentarily, sniffling ever so slightly as the thought of visiting 'hotlines' and whatever else was available plagued her consciousness. Not only did she not have Internet at home but any website would be excruciatingly jarring for someone of her position. But she couldn't be rude to the girl driving her home. "Okay..." Elyse whispered, keeping her eyes trained ahead before releasing another shallow breath.

[Noa Reese]

"You know only a little about what goes on..."

Noa didn't need her power to know that that was true. But it still stung. Her hands tightened on the steering wheel with her frustration. She wanted to. She so badly wanted to know, but how was she supposed to find out? This girl wasn't telling her. And she didn't want to drag Elyse through hell just to get some answers that would be agony to pry out. This feeling of helplessness killed Noa. It just reminded her that life wasn't fair, and the injustice of it was so goddamn painful.

The waitress' fake agreement only salted the wound. And now she felt worse, because she felt like she'd forced herself on the girl. She wished she could make amends, take back her words or actions, go back a few minutes, and have another chance to gain this girl's trust. What had she expected, though? The girl was obviously scarred by her experiences, and had put up walls to keep from thinking about it, Noa didn't stand a chance of breaking in. And worst of all, she knew the feeling of those walls. They were like shards of granite jaggedly stabbed into the heart and mind, and now she was putting Elyse through the pain as she attempted to tiptoe around them.

The guilt and frustration were intertwined as she gripped the steering wheel, her own demons beginning to worm their way into her rotting thoughts.

No. She couldn't do this now. She couldn't make it about her. That was selfish and vain, and didn't she have any compassion for the girl beside her? How dare she think her problems were worse than Elyse's?

And now the self-loathing, the blame, crept up on her and she clenched her jaw as she pushed those thoughts away, locking them into her box of denial.

She had to consider Elyse.

But what could she do?

Noa took a deep breath, and loosened her grip on the wheel, forcing herself to calm. "I'm sorry." Maybe she could just hope for the best. "That was uncalled for, I didn't mean to bring up any sort of painful subject. I just..." she shook her head, "It's not fair to you."

"...Are you sure you want to go home?" She asked, not wanting to come off as predatory, but wanting to do something. "I can take you somewhere else - I live out toward UVM, there's some 24 hour places a few minutes out that way if you don't want to head home just yet." And she was perfectly willing to offer her room to the woman, if she wanted it, but she didn't think the girl would take it. Maybe just the promise to get out of Pilot Ridge would offer some relief.

[Elyse Blackburn]

Even with Noa by her side, consoling her and being a generally kind human being, Elyse still felt so alone. The barbs of her past were tearing at what was left of her battered soul, demanding she tumble back into the murky depths of self-loathing and denial. Was there any safe haven from this personal hell? Any chance of reaching out to whatever help Noa was offering was instantly dulled by Elyse's fear and uncertainty. Why was this pretty human being helping her? What was in it for someone so perfect?!

Elyse trained her gaze on a street lamp not far away, exhausting her mind as she mulled over every little thing that had happened so far. Another monotonous night at the diner, speckled with bacon grease and rowdy customers only to have the midnight shift broken by Noa and the subsequent drunkard that stumbled in afterwards. No young woman should live that life. Elyse knew it in her heart that everything could be so much more, that her life was not determined by the mistakes of the present but by the diligence towards the future. She was not bound to the sins of her upbringing, but it still lingered, stubbornly like a disease.

You will always be an accident, a mistake waiting to happen!

The shrill curse from her past thundered in the back of her mind, sending a nervous jolt down her skin at simply hearing his voice again. No! Elyse forced her mind to retract from that nightmare, shuddering at the mental strain it put her through.

Not now. Not in front of Noa.

It took a moment before her meek voice could return to her, the quiet yet painstaking task of even talking ushering in another wave of nausea. "No..It's okay. You were just trying to help..." Elyse offered, whispering her words and giving the girl a shadow of a smile. Distressing Noa so late at night was bound to make things even more emotionally tumultuous so Elyse took in a deep breath and wiped away the tears, glancing back at the girl in an attempt to keep herself composed.

"I...I...okay. That would be nice..." She sighed, wondering if she made the right decision agreeing to the girl's request. It wasn't like Noa was asking for sex like very man and his dog, besides, going home was bound to force her into a deeper depression. "I'm sorry for dragging you into all this mess..." The waitress mumbled, fiddling with her fingers as she watched the street lights pass by.