The Escape

Maria was running, her bare feet stinging in the snow and on the rocks under her feet but nothing would stop her from running. She didn't even know if she was being chased but she knew she had to run and keep running until it was physically impossible to run any more. She was already out of breath, all those cigarettes were haunting her. She stumbled and tripped her way through the darkness, not knowing where she was going or what she would do when she got there. All she knew was that she had to put as much distance between her and her past as possible.

She couldn't believe it could believe she she'd actually done it, actually escaped from the hell hole she'd been kept in for the last however long it was. She’d been saying she’d go ever since she’d noticed that the lock on the bathroom window was broken but had never quite had the bottle to do it until this evening when something told her it was now or never.

She shivered, was it the cold of the night or the thought that the men who'd paid to rape her over the last 3 years maybe lived in the houses she was running passed now? Fat ones, thin ones, smelly ones, clean ones, the good, the bad and the ugly; they could have all looked like Brad Pitt and it would still have been terrible. Even if George Clooney had handed over his Euros, she would still have worn her death mask - smiling face but death in her eyes.

What had they promised her? Modelling in the UK. And what had she ended up with?  Whoring in a small town in Germany. Not that she ever saw the proceeds of her efforts, small amounts were sent home along with the letters she was forced to write assuring her parents everything was fine, but Maria never got any Euros in her pockets. In fact, come to think of it she hadn't even got any clothes with pockets.
She stumbled and fell, her feet screamed with pain, her body gave up; she couldn’t run anymore. Had she put enough distance between her and the brothel? Would they find her? Did she care? 

'Hey are you alright?'
It was light, grey but light. She must have passed out. She was lucky not to be dead from the cold.  There was a woman standing over Maria, a dumpy, frumpy woman with a kindly smile. Maria groaned.

‘Come on let's get you cleaned up.’ The woman helped Maria to her feet and then escorted her to her house where she fussed around making tea and tending to Maria's wounds. The woman talked and talked but didn't ask any question not prying into Maria’s life, not questioning who she was or how she got there. Maria drank her tea and silently thanked her lucky stars. She could have been found by anyone, but she got this lovely woman with kindness in her eyes. 

Maria heard footsteps, she shivered in her scanty clothes.

‘Don’t worry love it’s just my husband.’ The woman saw the fear in Maria’s eyes.

A large man came into the kitchen and looked at the stranger sitting wrapped in a blanket. Maria froze.

‘Who’s this then?’ He said.

You know damn well who I am, thought Maria, her eyes welling with tears.

‘I found her freezing to death in the garden.’ The woman said.

‘I think she needs to get to a hospital.’ The husband said, getting up close to Maria and when he was sure his wife couldn’t see him, putting a finger to his lips to warn her to keep quiet.

Bastard! Maria screamed silently. Bastard. But fear stopped any words coming out of her mouth.

‘Why don’t I take her to the hospital?’ The man said to his wife, an innocent smile on his wicked face.

‘Oh there’s nice of you love.’ The woman said.

The man grabbed Maria by the arm like he’d done 100 times before but this time he was not in the throes of orgasm. He led her from the house but Maria knew she was not heading to a hospital.

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