Sixteen

She is scorned by the "proper" members of society everyday, but even a hooker deserves to have a Sweet Sixteen.

Sixteen

 

Black open-toed platform heels hit the pavement, sweeping across it like a spring breeze. The notorious click of the heels was drowned out by the city noises, which pervaded through every street. Adding at least four inches of lift, the heels propelled the already-tall woman to even greater heights. Her sandy complexion was accentuated by her fire engine-red lipstick, recently applied. She curled her lips as she turned the corner, tugging her immodestly short skirt down absentmindedly. Dark eyes surveyed the street, which currently enjoyed the company of many other women in similarly risqué attire. Davora stumbled slightly. "It's the heels, she insisted"as she approached the nearest brick wall.

The sky was a muted blue as it began to coax the moon. Yet, the sun resolutely shined overhead, illuminating the quiet street of the night-walkers. Some of the women were relaxing in broad daylight, enjoying the reprieve from their work. Still more had retreated to their apartments, taking on the nocturnal lifestyle. Few paid the passing teenager any regard beyond their initial inspection.

Davora ran her fingers through her soft red locks as she glanced at her old watch. The more she looked at it, the slower the second hand went. A soft curse escaped her as she turned away. 

"What're you doing, birthday girl?"

The voice that penetrated the cold air was gravely and harsh, but Davora's eyes lit up as soon as she heard it. Turning towards the source of the smoky greeting, Davora stared into the chocolate-brown eyes of Sammy Hanson. The girl was rail thin--quite unlike Davora, whose figure could only be described as voluptuous--and just a few inches taller than Davora. Sammy rubbed her eyes, as if trying to efface the bruises that hung restlessly beneath them. Upon confirming the identity of the pallid girl before her, Davora let out a youthful chuckle.

"Waiting for my watch to go faster," Davora retorted, sticking out her tongue petulantly. "If I'm too early, I'll look like a loser." Although Sammy rolled her eyes dramatically, there was a twinkle in them, and she couldn't suppress the sneaking smile. 

"You look like you've got plans," she observed. A wind chill hit Sammy's tiny frame, and she shuddered, but the weary smile endured. 

Davora nodded, crossing her hands behind her back as she stared intently at a fat pigeon grazing nearby. She looked down at her shoulders briefly before explaining: "Kaylee and me are gonna go see a movie at 5:30"her treat." A smile hesitantly flitted across her lips before Sammy reached down to ruffle the younger girl's hair. "Hey, stop it!" Sammy countered the prior assault on maturity by sticking her own tongue out. 

"You just looked so happy--I couldn't help myself," Sammy offered innocuously as she pulled her hands back in surrender. "I hope you have a sweet sixteen, darlin'~" She glanced down at Davora's watch, grinning. "And on that lovely note, I think you should get going."

Squeaking helplessly at the time, which had chosen to finally move at a reasonable pace as soon as she'd stopped watching it, the redhead mumbled cursory farewells beneath her breath. This time, she held no doubt about the origins of her various stumbles as she raced down the streets. Goddamn heels.

The streets were only beginning to saturate as the nine-to-five crowd headed home"whether that was an apartment or a dusty bar stool. Several ravenous men tried to stop her in her tracks, but Davora's dismissive hands pushed them aside. As the crowd filled out around her, Davora shivered and hugged her bare shoulders, her pace slowing. The moon finally prevailed over the sun, which was setting to the west of her. In the fast-approaching moonlight, many smartly-dressed women eyed her with contempt. One of them even spit in her face as they crossed paths. Davora merely wiped the spit off her face and kept walking, holding her head high. Her face was as empty as a blank canvas.

When she finally arrived at the designated alley several blocks away, Davora stopped to recompose herself, kneeling over. "Kaylee?" she called out into the air, watching her breath dissipate with dulled interest. Her voice was greeted with silence. Blinking, Davora stared down at her watch. It was after five o'clock. Reaching down her low-cut top shamelessly, Davora retrieved her cell phone. She hit speed dial 1 and pressed the phone against her ear, tapping her foot against the asphalt impatiently.

The ringer was heard deeper in the alley. Raising a skeptical brow, Davora called out again. "Kaaaay, not funny!" No reply. "Hey, Kaylee, we're gonna be late for the movie. I am not gonna miss Orlando's pretty face just 'cause you're fooling around." She stepped deeper into the alley, squinting in the darkness. "Kayl""

The phone slid from her fingers.

Clatter.

Kaylee's still, crumpled form lay feet away from her phone. Her eyes were open and unseeing, widened in terror, and her mouth was rooted in a despairing scream. Between them, two trails of tears stained her cheeks. Her body was twisted unnaturally, like a rag doll. Kaylee was silent.

Kaylee was dead.

Blood. Blood in her pretty pin-straight blonde hair. Blood drenching her calloused hands. Blood slipping down her exposed legs. Blood dripping down her chin. Blood caked beneath her icy-blue nails. Blood nipping the soles of her feet. Blood on the ticket stubs.

Carved on her chest was a single word--W***E.

Davora gagged, turned around, and ran.

Author's Note

Please feel free to rip the story apart if need be! I strive to improve.

Reviews

[mysteriouslyyours]

Very well written. I don't have any criticism. Thoroughly enjoyed it.

[OtherWorldWoman]

I absolutely love this story. I love the vocabulary you used, and the way that it flowed so nicely. It makes me want to read on. I enjoy the repetition you used to enhance the horror at the end of the story and the light-hearted way that it led up to that gruesome finale. VERY well done!! I can't wait to read more of your stuff.

[havok965]

Good Job! I liked it. You have a natural ability to keep a story flowing, and use words well, especially adjectives. I don't have a lot of critisism, I don't believe in "ripping apart" other peoples work. Writing should be an art, not an academic. The only thing is in that last paragraph you used the word "Blood" quite a bit, and that distracted me. Other than that, nice work. Feel free to read and comment on my writing. Please?