by Lara Whybrow
They called them "kittens", which was absurd considering these girls were the recipients of their perverse affections. Perhaps they felt that the girls, like kittens, had claws but were helpless when held by the scruff of their neck. The facility was large and fronted as a boarding school and the girls sometimes performed simple clerical duties when they weren't being used. A reminder, perhaps, of what a normal life could feel like. There was also a restaurant for the clients so that they could eat while surveying which girl they wanted. The facility had its own hospital; wouldn't want anyone finding out the dark secrets of the facility.
She had been walking through the restaurant when the client she secretly called the Lizard leered at her. She knew what that leer meant and that was when something snapped inside her. Enough, she had to get out. No matter what the price of being caught was, she had to get out. The Matron kept a watchful eye on all her "kittens", but there had to be a way out. A weak link somewhere.
After the Lizard was finished with her she lay on her right side in a tent outside. She was bleeding everywhere but she was numb. She heard the zipper open and then felt an injection in her anus. The doctor had come to sew her up. Again. How many times would they repeat the same song and dance?
She felt another injection, and then a third. The third one burned like fire and she clawed at the doctor's hand. A short while afterwards one of the youngsters came to her tent. She remembered seeing his spotty face outside the office the other day. He was going to try and use her - in her current state! Today he was going to bear the brunt of all her years of pain and resentment. She kicked him in the groin and saw his face scrunch up in pain. She had to immobilise him though, so she took his balls and twisted, grimacing at the feel of them in her hand. Then she belly crawled through the grass to the far side of the facility, always keeping a watchful eye out for the Matron. She was going through an exposed spot when she saw the Matron coming out of one of the buildings. The Matron spotted her. She ran to the fence and saw another girl trying to escape. They used branches to bring down some of the barbed wire and scrambled over the fence. They ran for their lives and managed to catch a lift into the nearest town. She and the girl parted ways. The other girl had a family to go to. Lucky her.
She found herself wandering around the shopping centre seeking safety among all the people. She sat down near a group of about five, who asked her if she was ok. The trauma from the past few years caught up with her and the tears ran down her face. She couldn't express herself, so great was her fear, her relief and her grief.
The Matron had found her! She kicked and punched the Matron but her pale, fleshy body seemed to absorb all the blows. She managed to tear herself away and ran. And ran. And ran.
Many years later, when she was safe and secure with a family who had taken her in, she turned around and came face to face with the Matron again. She raised her hand, aiming it in a knife edge at the throat, when the Matron dropped to her knees and said "will you please forgive me?"
She replied, "I don't know if I can..."
There were tears on her pillow when she woke up. She didn't recognise that life, or those people, she didn't know what lifetime this memory dream came from, but she would never forget the fear. She would never forget how valuable her freedom was. And so she found some paper and a pencil and began:
They called them kittens...
