Post by Bella Swift on Oct 28, 2007 12:56:25 GMT -5
Just to qualify, this particular monologue isn't the result of Bella being raped but more just an opportunity to explore the less palatable side of what Bella has to do and the impact on her that she wouldn't show anyone in passing conversation
Bella waited for the door to her room to close before she allowed the tears to come. She would never cry in front of a client, even if they wanted her to - and some of them liked it if a girl wept or begged - Bella hadn't cried for anyone in a very long time.
She grabbed for what remenants of clothing she still had on, or which were in easy reach and covered herself as best as she could, then she curled herself in to a ball amidst the ruined and rumpled bed sheets. She wrapped her arms around her knees and pulled them in tight, as by making herself small and protected she could keep the small, untouchable part of herself inside safe.
Bella allowed the tears to come now, the sobs shook her tiny and the tears rolled down her cheek and her nose, soaking the pillow beneath and plastering the hair caught between against her face.
She cried until nothing else came and sobs subsided in to shivers and the occasional little shuddering cry, like a small child who's cried themselves out. She lay perfectly still, listening to her breathing slow, listening to the creaks and mufflied cries and laughter as other people moved around the house, focusing on anything except the reality of the dried tears, the mess of the bed and the pains and aches that started to permeate her body.
She breathed slowly and deeply, allowing a few more minutes to pass before she actually started to think, before the pragmatic part of her mind began to needle at her to get on with things.
Bella sighed and slowly released her arms, wincing as she straightened her legs out and sat up. Without even looking she ripped the linen off the bed and bundled it up, shoving it in to the laundry basket. She checked the money that had been dumped on the bedside cabinet and told herself that it had been worth it, enough coin for a week's worth of keep. It was a lie she could make herself believe when her belly was full of food.
Finally she gathered up her clothes from the floor and went to the mirror. As she stood dressed only in her bloomers and shift, she was startled by the pale, tear stained girl that looked back out at her. The Bella that looked out from the mirror had a bruised cheek, a split lip and red welts on her wrists. The Bella in the mirror was wide eyed and scared.
She poured some water in to the basin on her wash stand and soaked a cloth. Part of her mind screamed to scrub at herself until all the grime, muck, make-up and mess was gone, instead she carefully cleaned away the smudges of make up, the traces of dried tears and the tiny bit of blood that smeared her cut lip.
Bella finished washing and sprayed herself with perfume. She carefully re-dressed herself and pinned her hair back, finishing it with flowers and a ribbon. Finally she painted her face, powder, kohl and lipstick hiding the marks.
She smiled at herself in the mirror, "good as new!" she stated breezily and gathered up her shawl. If the smile didn't quite reach her eyes, and the make-up didn't cover up the little bits of damage that were being done to her soul, well, who was to know?
Bella waited for the door to her room to close before she allowed the tears to come. She would never cry in front of a client, even if they wanted her to - and some of them liked it if a girl wept or begged - Bella hadn't cried for anyone in a very long time.
She grabbed for what remenants of clothing she still had on, or which were in easy reach and covered herself as best as she could, then she curled herself in to a ball amidst the ruined and rumpled bed sheets. She wrapped her arms around her knees and pulled them in tight, as by making herself small and protected she could keep the small, untouchable part of herself inside safe.
Bella allowed the tears to come now, the sobs shook her tiny and the tears rolled down her cheek and her nose, soaking the pillow beneath and plastering the hair caught between against her face.
She cried until nothing else came and sobs subsided in to shivers and the occasional little shuddering cry, like a small child who's cried themselves out. She lay perfectly still, listening to her breathing slow, listening to the creaks and mufflied cries and laughter as other people moved around the house, focusing on anything except the reality of the dried tears, the mess of the bed and the pains and aches that started to permeate her body.
She breathed slowly and deeply, allowing a few more minutes to pass before she actually started to think, before the pragmatic part of her mind began to needle at her to get on with things.
Bella sighed and slowly released her arms, wincing as she straightened her legs out and sat up. Without even looking she ripped the linen off the bed and bundled it up, shoving it in to the laundry basket. She checked the money that had been dumped on the bedside cabinet and told herself that it had been worth it, enough coin for a week's worth of keep. It was a lie she could make herself believe when her belly was full of food.
Finally she gathered up her clothes from the floor and went to the mirror. As she stood dressed only in her bloomers and shift, she was startled by the pale, tear stained girl that looked back out at her. The Bella that looked out from the mirror had a bruised cheek, a split lip and red welts on her wrists. The Bella in the mirror was wide eyed and scared.
She poured some water in to the basin on her wash stand and soaked a cloth. Part of her mind screamed to scrub at herself until all the grime, muck, make-up and mess was gone, instead she carefully cleaned away the smudges of make up, the traces of dried tears and the tiny bit of blood that smeared her cut lip.
Bella finished washing and sprayed herself with perfume. She carefully re-dressed herself and pinned her hair back, finishing it with flowers and a ribbon. Finally she painted her face, powder, kohl and lipstick hiding the marks.
She smiled at herself in the mirror, "good as new!" she stated breezily and gathered up her shawl. If the smile didn't quite reach her eyes, and the make-up didn't cover up the little bits of damage that were being done to her soul, well, who was to know?