A man looks her body up and down and winks, revealing a grin with more gaps than teeth. She rises gracefully, her body moving in a way that hints at the sinewy grace of her limbs. She leads him into the alley, then up a rickety staircase. She closes the door and subtly turns the lock, the man too distracted by the curves of her form to notice. She begins to undress and the man follows, drunkenly reaching for her with barely contained lust. She allows him to reach for her, to push her towards the bed placed nearby for this express purpose, and for a moment, she allows herself to remember. She remembers the girl she used to be, the one who loved this work just as much as her clients did. She remembers nights of passion and days of luxury, supported by the coffers of her numerous wealthy clients. The man grabs her arms, pins her down to the bed so he can pleasure himself, and she remembers. She remembers nights of pain, of a partner who pinned her down and refused to let her leave. She remembers running, and vowing to never be that helpless again. She knees the man in the chest, reaching blindly for the knife strapped beneath the bed. In one practiced motion she slits his throat, and begins going through his pockets. He’s not as wealthy as her former clients, but she finds enough money to keep her fed for the rest of the week. She strips him of his clothes, …show more content…
It takes far longer than it usually does, and I’m almost fully packed when a realization strikes me. I’m delaying because I don’t want to leave. The strength of my conviction, of my desire to stay almost knocks me over. There’s a feeling of overwhelming Importance in this city, and I can suddenly feel my mind resisting my desire to leave. Before the accident, when I still had my sight, I once noticed how much my eyes would filter out, how I’d only notice the important things in a scene and forget the details. My Sight nowadays is much the same. I See what my subconscious thinks is important, and sometimes it intrudes even into my daily life. This city is Important. My presence here, that too is equally important. I listen to the wind blowing outside my cave and feel the familiar weight of my pack in my hand. I could get up and leave just like I always do, and flee at the first sign of recognition. Or, I could stay, and see what becomes of this city and these people. My thoughts flash to the people I saw earlier today, and wonder what will become of them. I Saw so much more in that past session than I ever have before; usually I only see what’s happening, and almost never know their thoughts, or see flashes of their motivations. With a grin, I note that I’ve already become attached to these people, and in that moment I know that I can’t leave,