The locket hangs heavy around Rebecca’s neck. Its antiquity out of place with her scant attire. She twirls it in her hand. Inspecting the monogram on the back. Her mother’s initials worn and barely visible on its lackluster white gold. She wears it as a reminder of a better time. A time when her mother was still alive, and her father wasn’t an abusive alcoholic. The night’s cold is biting. She wonders if she would really lose business if she wore more clothes. John’s would have to understand its cold outside. Richie, her pimp, would hear none of that though.

  A tall man emerges from around the wall she is leaning on. She glances him over. He is a handsome man, broad shouldered and clean cut. He walks over to her with a swiftness in his step. Almost an anxiety about him. He speaks to her uneasy. As though he were unsure of what to say. This is pleasing to Rebecca. No way this guy is a cop. Those guys couldn’t fool her if they tried. She knows a john when she sees one. This was definitely a john, a nervous one, but a john none the less. She tells him not to worry. Just to follow her.

  She leads him to the run down building her and the other girls use. She tells him to go talk to Timmy. Timmy was their guard. The client paid him and then Jimmy started the clock. An hour later Timmy came and knocked on the door. Simple. Timmy gave her the nod and she quickened her pace.

  She was actually excited about this one. He was worth a freebie, but of course that’s not how business is done. She reaches room 2C. Her room. She opens the door and invites the john in. The shades a re drawn and there is a cover on the lamp giving the room a soft glow. Good ambience begets repeat customers. Well that and good……

  The john comes in the room and closes the door. Rebecca has a seat on the bed. She suggestively pats next to her. The john removes his jacket. He makes no move closer to her. She starts to remove her shirt, but the john grunts negatively. He continues to stare at her. For the first time she notices his eyes. Deep blue. Memorizing. She can’t bring herself to look away.

  “I was sent by your mother.” says the john in his deep silky voice.

  “My mother is dead” replies Rebecca still locked in his gaze.

  “I am aware. She disapproves of your current……situation. More specifically your employment.”

  Rebecca is shocked. How dare this guy say something like that. He expects her to believe he converses with the dead. He probably does this for kicks. Comes around and finds young girls who turn tricks and tries to make them feel bad for how they are forced to live. What the hell could she do? She can’t go home. No way is she going to a shelter. This is her only option. She wants to get up and smack him, but she finds herself unable. Still captured by his gaze. She can’t bring herself to move. She might lose sight of those eyes. Everything else becomes blurry now. Only his eyes are clear.

  “Well what would she prefer I do?” she asks trying to buy time until she can break his stare.

  “Anything. Death is preferable to this.”

  “I will not go home to be raped and beat again. I have not been raped in over a year and I will never be raped again.”

  “She accepts that.” replies the man.

  “Well what then?!” she demands.

  “You will find something else.” his answer.

  “Easy for you to say. There is nothing else. Now will you get the hell out of here before I call Timmy in here. He is not a nice man.”

  “Your threats only exacerbate things Rebecca. Now we are done talking.”

  Everything fades to black now. Only his eyes remain. Rebecca is sent reeling. She tries to scream but can’t. She can neither move nor scream. All she has is his eyes. Their deep blue now terrifying. Full of rage. Crystalline and demonic. Perhaps this man does converse with her mother. No. Her mother would understand. She would have to. She wouldn’t want Rebecca in a home where her own father raped her on a nearly daily basis.

  Rebecca cries internally for her mother. Her mother gone for so long. All she has left is the locket. Her only connection to her mother a tiny piece of metal that hangs around her neck. If only her mother would come to save her. She calls for her in her mind. Screaming. Pleading. Now the eyes are gone. Blackness all that remains.

  When she awakens the man is gone. Was it a man? A demon? Her thighs are on fire. The familiar feeling is back. Degradation. She said it would never happen again. Tears come streaming down her cheeks. As she sobs she reaches up to hold the locket. To hold the memory of her mother in her hands. She finds nothing. The locket is gone. To hold the memory of her mother in her hands. To find comfort in the lettering on its tattered backside. The man must have stolen it. Taken her pride, her memories, her mother. Taken everything with his eyes.