1942; A bright flash of lightning encompasses the dainty, ill illuminated streets of Westminister Abbey, London. The perpetual Monsoon showers that drown the gutters of London are as unpredictable as Sadie’s current whereabouts.
It’s been two full days since Sadie had a proper meal at her residence far away from the urban jungles of Westminister. With a rucksack enough to carry clothes for a week, and a Plastic tarpaulin on her head, Sadie Smith walks along the wet footpath of the once-bustling streets. with nowhere to be in particular, what is currently the object of her thoughts is the 10 pounder she “borrowed” from her mistresse’s glovebox when she left in search of a better life than the brothel that she called home. “should last me a week before I find something to do, or beg, or worse, go back.”
It was 6 pm and the downpour showed no sign of halt, ‘I’ll be darned if pneumonia takes me down quicker than I find a place to lay down’ Sadie thought to herself as her hungry eyes searched for an awning to lay under. she walked for quite a little time until she finally found one, a fellow squatting over its right before hers.
she hurried under there, her backpack drenched while her head was saved by the plastic tarpaulin. ” Welcome to me lovely abode”, said he, his voice engulfed by the thick scent of cheap rum. “Thank you” Nodded Sadie. There was a discernible air of silence, only interrupted by occasional thunders followed by night turning into day for a few brief milliseconds.
“The name’s Timothy, but yer can call me Tim” grinned the middle-aged man.” Not from ’round ‘ere, are yer?” Sadie did not respond. in her experience in a brothel, the men were only friendly for two reasons; they did not have money to pay for the ‘services’ she offered, or they were one of those men, wielding cameras, asking probing questions about sadies past and her present with a goal to create a documentary on women like her, only to sell it to the highest bidder willing to profit off her life experiences and struggles, while her only getting the paltry 1 pound she was offered for an entire day. There was a certain air of doubt that friendly men gave to women like her, Sadie said to herself.
the man did not speak any further. they stared into the misty, dank roads, visibility lower than ever before. The rain had subsided. but all that remained was darkness that filled up all the empty spaces around her. The darkness only once interrupted by the headlights of a passing Ford model A. Seeing a car was not a common affair, only the elite could afford one. she had once heard rumors that a car once visited the brothel that Sadie was in, which costed close to 1000s of pounds, a figure unimaginable for little Sadie here.
A while later the friendly man pulled out a meatloaf wrapped in a crumpled newspaper out of his rucksack, broke it into a few pieces, and offered a few to Sadie. Hunger got the better of her and she quickly snatched them from the strangers hand, the few pieces of meatloaf dearer to her than any of the riches man could offer her. “much thanks” exclaimed Sadie, in those brief few seconds of Sadie devouring the meatloaf, Timothy saw the childlike innocence that someone else once told they saw in him.
it was 10 pm, although it seemed way past midnight judging the quiet and unusually motionless streets of Westminister Abbey. Sadie Smith decided to spend the night right here under the awning, the surroundings looked safe from predators and law enforcements trying to make the lives of the homeless miserable any chance they got. The streets were certainly the least of the safest spaces one could usually lay down for a nap for. the original squatter remained.
” Downtown Abbey is the best place to sleep for the night” said Timothy. “long roofs over me head and fellow bums make the best company. “And where is that?”,”Not a few kilometers south from ‘ere. Thats where I’m headed for tomorrow. you should join me” said Tim. “Maybe I will.” replied Sadie. She wouldn’t. “I ran away from me home last year. this is my life now. No one gave a shit, as I thought. I tried going back to meet my sister last month but they’re no longer staying there. all said and done, I do regret running away but there is nothing i can do about it now.” he said. What about you? “Something similar, said Sadie. ran away from my step- mother because she didn’t want me around.” she said. Sadie was far too ashamed to really tell a stranger about her past, about how she didn’t know where she was born, who were her parents. She was brought up at the brothel for as far as she could remember, with expectations by the women around her waiting for her to come of age, prepared and ready as a lamb to slaughter.
They spoke for quite some while, Timmy usually the speaker and Sadie the listener. he spoke all about his adventures on the streets, about how many times he’s had close encounters with the law, as well as homeless people he was sure were serial killers. he spoke about the best places one could go stand to get alms from, and how people who wouldn’t usually spare a coin were willing to empty their purses when seeing a destitute outside a church. sadie opened up and told him of her worries of how long her 10 pounder would last before she found any work to sustain herself, and her anxiety over what would happen to her in the future,not knowing if she would be able to acquire even one meal the next day, or would she sleep hungry again? being a good listener, Tim said nothing else and let her speak until she no longer had anything to. What a sad story, missus. that will be ten pounds for listening to your ails, Tim chuckled, So did Sadie.
They spoke for a while, and minutes turned into hours, distrust turned into trust.
“Its late” said Sadie, “i’ll go sleep now.”
“Oh yes, yes. please do, ill stay awake tonight and watch over our belongings. you can return me the favour tomorrow night by looking after mine” said Timothy. “thanks.” Sadie Shut her eye, and sleep embraced her instantly.
The next morning was the Ill fated one. Sadie woke up to find all her belongings scattered around the street. Someone had ransacked her rucksack that Timothy had so generously offered to protect. It seems as quite a lot of Sadie’s belongings were no longer to be found, not that she had many things quite valuable. Only things that a homeless man would require. Sadie’s hairbrush was missing, and so was her hand mirror, her clothes were all here but one thing that Sadie held dearest was missing, her 10 pounder. It seems that the thief knew what was dearest and managed to get hands on the plunder. Timothy was no longer to be seen. Oh to trust a glib talking stranger who offered her only a few pieces of meatloaf, to lose the money dealt more harm to Sadie than the money itself, she lost the will to go on and look to a new life.
With a heavy heart and a lost will to fend this ruthless world, Sadie packed in all her belongings back in her rucksack, shut her eyes to calm her enraged heartbeat, and dry her tears. She did not complain, she didn’t make any Sound. She stood up, and started her journey back to where she came from, to the brothels where she once dreamt of escaping. That was the only way she saw her future.
The locals swore they saw a ghost walk across the city that day. A woman with Lifeless eyes, and a demeanor such of an inmate right after they were sentenced to life at the prison. From afar, Sadie was alive yes, but look closer, to find what remained of Sadie was only a husk, the life missing. That’s what a lifetime of trauma, breaking trusts and heartbreaks does to you.
To tame a runaway is exactly how you tame even the fiercest lions. you give them some food to eat, some shelter and comfort to sleep. Then one day, you just take it all away.
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