I

The young woman ran stumbling and falling into brambles, desperately looking around her, eyes wide with fear and panic. She called out for help, and then stopped, trying to hear whether the man was still chasing her.

The fact was, she did not understand how everything had gone so badly wrong. They had been talking, heads lowered as the man slurred into her ear. She had placed her lips next to his ear, but her words were more practical, more financial. The man had nodded his agreement, nuzzling a fuzzy chin against her soft cheeks. His breath reeked of alcohol. It had not caused her undue concern because in her line of business, the men more often than not needed a boost of courage to come up to her, and she preferred it because it often meant business was brisk.

However, there was something else, it had not registered at first and she now knew she would regret not trusting her instincts. Amongst the excessive alcohol, she had sensed something was off about him, but she had foolishly chosen to ignore it. His breath was laboured, but it was not the sound of a man who was excited, not about sex, at least. It was the breath of anticipation of what was about to happen. It was then she realised he had chosen her for a reason. She had experienced it before, first with the men who had cajoled her into Paris with lies about the high-life she would finally get to experience away from the dead-end village in Northern France she had been born in, and then with the men they had forced her to sleep with. The only bright lights she had seen were the ones which flashed outside the dingy hotel room she barely left.

After turning sixteen, her life had changed again. She was no longer “fresh” and was expected to work the streets in order to pay off the enormous debt she had amassed, though she did not know how because she certainly had no money of her own. The streets became her life for longer than she knew, because she had lost count of the days and after a while there had seemed little point in celebrating birthdays. This was her life, and that was all there was to it. She had gone up to this particular man because he looked cleaner and kinder than the other men circling the boulevard, like vultures searching for prey.

‘S'il vous plaît let me go!’ she cried into the night as she scrambled to her feet. She pushed herself upwards with the palms of her hands and sucked in a fast breath so she could listen. There were no more footsteps, and she could no longer hear his excited breath. Relief swept over her. He’s got bored and gone looking for someone who won’t put up so much of a fight, she thought to herself, allowing herself to relax. I’m safe.

She rested against the railings and noticed she had lost one of her shoes. Uttering a curse, the young woman began searching in the darkness, tired, scared eyes flicking over the pavement. Her attention was so focused she did not notice him stepping from the shadows and with a deft movement, pressing his hands around her throat. Immediately she screamed, her eyes widening in panic and her mouth twisting, but no words emerged, just a guttural scream. Adrenaline coursed through her body and she knew she had no time to think, or to allow panic to overwhelm her, so with all her might, she pushed away from him. But it was no use. The man kicked behind her knees, causing her to fall forward against the railings. All he had to do then was to press his body against her back and slam her head into the metal.

The young woman mouthed something, but it was too late. The darkness descended.