Lydia was sure her life could not become more desperate and horrible than it already was. How could it? She had lost everything, her job, her future, her home, even her own family refused to speak to her or acknowledge she existed. And she had done nothing to deserve it. She had only been preyed upon, and taken advantage of, and then she had been the one to be punished, not the man who had done this to her. He still had everything, and she had nothing.
Only a year ago, everything had been going right for Lydia. She had had a job as a seamstress, nothing glamorous but it had paid well enough for her to take care of herself and her ailing mother, with the help of her other sister and her husband. It had been the hope that she would work for a few years, find a good man, and then get married. Lydia would be expected to quit her job of course, but that was fine with her, it hadn’t been like being a seamstress had been her dream. It had seemed like a good life though, and a good future.
Until Lydia had fallen victim to a society set up against women, rigged to make it nearly impossible for them to succeed. Especially if, like her, they didn’t have the protection of a man, not a father or even a brother. Her own father had left when she had been young, and her mother had nearly worked herself to death ensuring that Lydia and her younger sister, Sophia, had had clothes and food and a little education. Sophia had gotten married a few years ago, and then just after their mother had fallen ill, and Lydia had started taking care of her, being the oldest and not having a husband who demanded her time and attention.
With no one to protect her and so much of her life depending on her job as a seamstress, it had been easy for her boss, Jacob, to take advantage of her, as he had one day last year. He had presented Lydia with a choice, sleep with him or lose her job. She had had no choice but to accept, but much to her dismay it had not been a one time thing. Jacob had used her like a whore for two months before his wife finally found out, and then it had not been Jacob who had been punished, but Lydia. He had fired her anyway, and he and his wife and smeared her name and reputation. Used goods and branded a whore, Lydia had been unable to get another job.
With no job, she had lost the apartment she had been renting, and her mother had gone to live with Sophia, whose husband had made it clear that Lydia was not welcome in his home. So she had been forced out onto the streets. And like so many other women in her situation, she had had to take one of the few options available and became an actual whore. She hated it. She hated herself. She hated Jacob. She hated her pimp. She hated the men that she was forced to sleep with to survive. Lydia found that the only way she didn’t feel overwhelmed by her bitterness and hatred was to simply become numb.
On the rare occasion that she was allowed a day to herself, she stole away, trying to get well away from the dilapidated building that she and the other women that worked for the same men lived in, usually several of them to a room. Today was one of those days, and as usual she grabbed what little food she could afford from a corner stand, and headed for the nearest park.
As she left the most destitute area she did her best to ignore the stares she received, her thin frame dressed in a brightly colored, revealing dress that marked her as a prostitute. Lydia kept her head down, and tried to pull the scarf she was wearing down a bit to cover her cleavage. Her long red hair was pinned up in a bun to keep it out of her face, and she kept her dark blue eyes on the paved cobble stones she was walking on. She was still a beautiful woman but it was easy to look at her and see that she had once been more beautiful. The last year had taken its toll, her hair was duller than it had been, her cheeks more hollow, and her shoulders sagged where they’d once been straight and proud. Under her dress her ribs showed and her hip bones poked out, evidence of not getting enough food. None of it made her too unattractive for men not to pay for some time with her though.
When she had reached the park finally, Lydia had been about to head for her spot, well away from curious, judging eyes, but she was distracted by some rustling in a nearby bush. Going to investigate, she’d found a young, pale girl, with scraps for clothing, and looking like a half starved little scarecrow. She made Lydia look fat and sleek. The girl had looked terrified, clearly thinking the woman some guard or policeman here to drag her out and kick her out of the park, but Lydia had only given a heavy sigh, and after convincing her she wasn’t going to hurt her, had persuaded the girl to come out. She’d wrapped her scarf around the girl’s neck and given her her own meager lunch, and told her to find somewhere away from the entrances to hide. The little urchin scurried off, and Lydia’s stomach growled in protest but she ignored it and went further into the park, thinking perhaps things could get a little worse for her after all, not that she wanted them to.
Only a year ago, everything had been going right for Lydia. She had had a job as a seamstress, nothing glamorous but it had paid well enough for her to take care of herself and her ailing mother, with the help of her other sister and her husband. It had been the hope that she would work for a few years, find a good man, and then get married. Lydia would be expected to quit her job of course, but that was fine with her, it hadn’t been like being a seamstress had been her dream. It had seemed like a good life though, and a good future.
Until Lydia had fallen victim to a society set up against women, rigged to make it nearly impossible for them to succeed. Especially if, like her, they didn’t have the protection of a man, not a father or even a brother. Her own father had left when she had been young, and her mother had nearly worked herself to death ensuring that Lydia and her younger sister, Sophia, had had clothes and food and a little education. Sophia had gotten married a few years ago, and then just after their mother had fallen ill, and Lydia had started taking care of her, being the oldest and not having a husband who demanded her time and attention.
With no one to protect her and so much of her life depending on her job as a seamstress, it had been easy for her boss, Jacob, to take advantage of her, as he had one day last year. He had presented Lydia with a choice, sleep with him or lose her job. She had had no choice but to accept, but much to her dismay it had not been a one time thing. Jacob had used her like a whore for two months before his wife finally found out, and then it had not been Jacob who had been punished, but Lydia. He had fired her anyway, and he and his wife and smeared her name and reputation. Used goods and branded a whore, Lydia had been unable to get another job.
With no job, she had lost the apartment she had been renting, and her mother had gone to live with Sophia, whose husband had made it clear that Lydia was not welcome in his home. So she had been forced out onto the streets. And like so many other women in her situation, she had had to take one of the few options available and became an actual whore. She hated it. She hated herself. She hated Jacob. She hated her pimp. She hated the men that she was forced to sleep with to survive. Lydia found that the only way she didn’t feel overwhelmed by her bitterness and hatred was to simply become numb.
On the rare occasion that she was allowed a day to herself, she stole away, trying to get well away from the dilapidated building that she and the other women that worked for the same men lived in, usually several of them to a room. Today was one of those days, and as usual she grabbed what little food she could afford from a corner stand, and headed for the nearest park.
As she left the most destitute area she did her best to ignore the stares she received, her thin frame dressed in a brightly colored, revealing dress that marked her as a prostitute. Lydia kept her head down, and tried to pull the scarf she was wearing down a bit to cover her cleavage. Her long red hair was pinned up in a bun to keep it out of her face, and she kept her dark blue eyes on the paved cobble stones she was walking on. She was still a beautiful woman but it was easy to look at her and see that she had once been more beautiful. The last year had taken its toll, her hair was duller than it had been, her cheeks more hollow, and her shoulders sagged where they’d once been straight and proud. Under her dress her ribs showed and her hip bones poked out, evidence of not getting enough food. None of it made her too unattractive for men not to pay for some time with her though.
When she had reached the park finally, Lydia had been about to head for her spot, well away from curious, judging eyes, but she was distracted by some rustling in a nearby bush. Going to investigate, she’d found a young, pale girl, with scraps for clothing, and looking like a half starved little scarecrow. She made Lydia look fat and sleek. The girl had looked terrified, clearly thinking the woman some guard or policeman here to drag her out and kick her out of the park, but Lydia had only given a heavy sigh, and after convincing her she wasn’t going to hurt her, had persuaded the girl to come out. She’d wrapped her scarf around the girl’s neck and given her her own meager lunch, and told her to find somewhere away from the entrances to hide. The little urchin scurried off, and Lydia’s stomach growled in protest but she ignored it and went further into the park, thinking perhaps things could get a little worse for her after all, not that she wanted them to.