— How was it yesterday? _Aurora was sitting on my single bed when I had barely woken up.
I yawn, sitting up and stretching my arms.
— Normal. _I lie and get out of bed, slipping on my sandals and heading to the bathroom to pee and take a shower.
The Author enters the bathroom, closes the toilet lid, and sits on it, looking at me curiously.
— Normal how, Lavínia? For God's sake!
— What do you want me to say? _I didn't wake up in a good mood, and I have a headache. Last night, I didn't sleep at all; I only remember crying.
— I want to know if you at least enjoyed it like I told you to.
— I tried. _I say, closing my eyes and letting the warm water wash over my body since I no longer have a soul. Living in these conditions doesn't allow me to have one.
— Was it good for you?
I open my eyes and stare at the small bathroom window, thoughtful.
They didn't use the entire time and barely entered me. That qualified as something good; I was spared from violence and the obligation to endure three men for an entire night.
— It was. _I reveal and scrub my hair, lathering it.
— I saw two men leaving the room where you were, frustrated. _She says, and now I understand why she's so interested in knowing about yesterday.
— The third one wanted to be alone with me. _I lie, because that's not exactly what happened. He wanted to probe me.
— The third one was a tall, elegant brunette, with a killer gaze, clenched jaw the whole time, strong build, and neatly combed hair?
At that, I looked at her.
— You saw him? _I want to know.
— I was hiding, and I saw him leaving Margaret's office. He looked furious and was staring at his fists. When he left, I went to the office, and the old woman was unconscious, bleeding from her nose and mouth. _She revealed.
My heart raced, pounding hard. The trembling embraced me more than the warm water from the shower.
My brother.
The old woman will take revenge on my brother.
Terrified, I turned off the shower, wrapped myself in a towel, and brushed my teeth, rushing out of the bathroom to get dressed.
Why did he hit her?
What does he think he's doing?
Shaking, I put on a random dress and tried to comb my hair.
I don't understand why he asked me so many questions last night. Why would my real story matter to a man as perverse as him?
How could I tell the truth, knowing that my little brother is under the power of the old woman in this place?
How could I say that I'm prostituting myself because I have no way out?
How could I say that I was kidnapped from my country and brought to a brothel in Switzerland?
How could I trust my story to someone who committed atrocities against me?
It was like merely changing owners or having two exploiting me. Because that man is no saint either.
He was armed…
I freeze.
What if he was an undercover cop investigating the place?
I shudder.
That's why I should have kept my mouth shut. Or my brother is dead.
---
When Margaret summoned me to her office at the beginning of the night, I went knowing she would hit me and say terrible things, but what terrified me most was being certain she would take it all out on my brother. Once, that wretch ordered a security guard to record a video beating Faruk. That monster wanted to force me in every way to sleep with a partner of this place.
Entering the office, I announced myself, and she turned around. She was standing in front of the window.
When I saw her face, it was impossible not to be horrified by the scene. Her nose was fractured, with a lot of blood secretion in her nostrils, gruesome.
— You called for me? _I ask, fearfully clasping my hands in front of my body.
— Sit. _She ordered. Cautiously, I went to the armchair and sat down, watching her drag herself with difficulty, touching her stomach in some pain and groaning as she took a seat in her chair. — You'll now work by quotas.
I blink, confused.
— What do you mean?
— Starting tonight, you'll do 8 clients per night, and they won't be distinguished or selected men; they'll be the common, disgusting vermin who frequent this place. I've already announced your new price, and from the comments I read, they're thrilled; there's even a garbage collector among your new clientele.
My eyes burn, and the tears are inevitable.
— Why are you doing this to me?
— I realized I've been too kind to you. Starting today, you'll stay in the "common" hall and not in the VIP area you're used to. Also, condoms will be counted; if they break, you're on your own. Your doctor visits will be restricted and will only happen when I feel like it… which is to say, never!
I'm devastated, sobbing, with no control over the bones trembling inside my flesh.
— I didn't tell him anything… I swear! _My voice falters, and I see myself terrified.
— So you know it was Ângelo who did this to me? _I deny it, frightened.
— Who's… Ângelo? _My voice breaks with a sob.
— Don't play dumb, you slut. Get out of my office… now. _She shouted.
I shrink back, terrified and without ground beneath me, lacking the strength even to stand.
— Ma'am…
— Get out of my sight, go. _She roared furiously and threw the pen holder at me, hitting my chest. I don't allow myself the luxury of feeling pain because the greater pain in my body isn't that one.
— Please… I didn't do anything. _I stand up weakly, crying.
— Forget the two monthly calls with your brother. You'll talk to him again when you've met the quota of 320 men.
I collapse.
— But that's 40 days… I can't go without talking to Faruk… for God's sake!
— Get out of here… get out, you whore.
With no way out, I struggle to stand, and by some miracle, I manage to reach the door, even though my world has been destroyed, and with blurred vision, I make it to my room.
Aurora ran to me and caught me before I fell to the floor.
— My God! You're pale. _She was shocked by my state and, with effort, dragged me to the bed. — What happened, Lavínia? _She stepped away and brought me a glass of water.
— She forbade me from talking to my brother… _To me, that was a thousand times worse than sleeping with as many men as she wanted. I didn't care about being with the worst clients, not going to the doctor, or catching diseases… I just wanted to hear my brother's voice and know he was okay, and that there was hope for both of us. I looked at the ceiling, trembling as I held the glass of water between my legs. — Oh, my God… Why is she doing this to me?
That man… that wretch… what did that miserable man do to my life?
Why did he hate me so much?