The Staring Lady

"Okay, I'm awake!" I growl. I wake up slowly to a bright light blinding my face. I thought the light was Amber or Marge trying to wake me up, but instead, the light is an unexpected stream of sun spilling directly through the blinds onto my cheeks.

I must go outside.

It's Saturday, though, and Marge and Amber won't be leaving for work, and they won't likely let me leave by myself. I'll have to form a plan of escape. I dress quickly, look out the window, and decide an escape from the window would lead to some sort of unfortunate fall.

I go lurk downstairs to scope out the scene. Marge and Amber are outside eating breakfast! I take advantage of this rare opportunity and make my escape.

Today, I know where I'm going. There is a hill about a mile down Katz Avenue. A broken down state park is atop this hill, and in the park, is a tiny little creek full of brown, baby tadpoles. I want to take a few fo--it's that lady. The lady I had seen a few days ago at the carnival. That night, I had just gotten some blue cotton candy, and I turned around to find Marge and Amber. This same lady was staring down at me--just the way she is now from across the street. She must have something to say. She calls me over.

"Little girl! Come over here!"

I approach in my shy manner, half-worried of what might become of this.

"Dahling, step into my office. My name is Aberdeen, but you may call me Ms. Abee," she leans in close, smelling of rotten liquor and perfume. She pets my head. "And what may I call you?"

Mrs. James always told me not to talk to strangers, but for some reason, today, I am making an exception. "Kaiya." I follow her into a dark, ratty antique shop.

"This is my shop," she has her arms outstretched. "My home." She goes behind the counter, pulls out a bottle of liquor and pours some into a dusty glass. "Want some?" I'm not sure whether to say yes or no. I say nothing. She laughs. "Come on," she reaches scarlett red finger nails out to my simple hand. "Follow me," she smiles. Behind the counter, a dimly lit hallway, and then a squeaky, wooden staircase. We enter another world.

A smoky, candlelit room filled with bubbles and lanky women dressed in shortness. And men. Old, nasty, bearded men. The lanky women lounge on old, velvet sofas. Their legs crossed, the bubbles in almost-fancy-enough glasses, held loosely in their gold and silver painted nails. They lean close to the men. Whisper. Laugh in their ears.

"What is this?" I ask Ms. Abee.
"It's my home, Kaiya."
"I should go," I say dizzily.
"Sweetheart, don't be scared."
"Why did you bring me here?"
"I thought maybe you'd like to join us."
"I'm 12."
"Oh, that doesn't matter a bit. See that girl over there?" She pointed to a blonde, tired-looking girl struggling to entertain a 50 year-old man. "She's our youngest, but oh! Doesn't she just bring about business! She's 13."
"I have to go."
"No, please don't, sweet Kaiya. Here, have a sip of mummy's rum." Too late for her. I knock the glass from her hand, it shatters, I run up the wooden stairs, out the deceiving front door, fast. Fast.

As I was leaving, I heard Ms. Abee shouting, "You're beautfiul, little Kaiya. Come back if you change your mind." Ha.

I run to the tadpoles. As I was sayng before...I want to take a few for some company in my room.