~Dessa~

Dessa was being dragged by her hair. She couldn't see anything. She was blanketed in pure darkness. Was she blinded by someone? She attempted to scream, but her throat made no sound. She desperately tried to rip her hair free from their grasp, not caring if it shredded her strands, if it could free her from whoever or whatever was dragging her. The rough ground scraped underneath her as she uselessly struggled to dig the heels of her bare feet into the dirt - to at least make it harder for the being, that was certainly a faerie, who was taking her away somewhere. Let me go! Dessa tried to screech, yet her lips remained silent, betraying her. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she reached up blindly to use her fingernails to claw at the hand that was gripping her hair so relentlessly. As if responding to her soundless shriek, she was thrown onto what felt like a cold, stone floor. The back of her head smashed against the hard, unyielding surface and she cried out in pain, though it just came out as a sharp exhale that could not be heard by anyone. The only sound that echoed off of the stone in the darkness was metal scraping against metal. Then the rattling of what could only be a set of keys. A heart-stopping chink of a heavy lock. She was imprisoned.

Dessa's eyes snapped open, a headache pounding against the insides of her skull, reminiscent of the pain she felt when her head hit the floor in her nightmare. She rubbed her scalp with her fingertips, as if she expected it to be sore from being dragged by her hair. Of course, it wasn't, because it hadn't happened, no matter how real it felt. She was in her bed, not a prison cell. She wasn't blind, or surrounded by darkness. It was morning, and Dessa moaned woefully, pulling the blankets over her head to block out the rays of sunshine. It was such a cruel reminder that she was insane. That the nightmares would never stop. It was almost like her subconscious had felt spiteful for her whisper to the darkness last night. Oh, yeah? Don't want to be afraid of the darkness? Try this on for size, Dessa.

She didn't want to be afraid of it, but her nightmare assured her that she definitely still was. She was terrified. That peaceful moment under the moonlight didn't change anything. She was no more brave than she was before that excursion. She wanted more fitful sleep, but if she took a nap now, it would do her no good. For one, going right back to sleep could allow her to slip back into the very same nightmare. That had happened to her too many times to count. If she wanted more rest, she would need to stay awake longer until the non-reality had time to dissipate, but by then, she would be too awake to fall back asleep easily. Secondly, she didn't want to ruin her sleep schedule when it had just started to right itself. If she took a nap, she wouldn't wake up until it was time to get ready for work. She always slept better during the daylight hours, when shadows couldn't mess with her mind. Aside from that nightmare the other day that was more like a ridiculous fantasy, she didn't dream once the sun was up.

So Dessa was left with only one option. Get the fuck up, and be a big girl. You can sleep when you're dead. She slid out of the blankets and went to take a shower, which as luck would have it, still worked. Once she got her first paycheck, she would make sure all the bills were paid up, and the rent. Then the stipend she would receive at the first of the next month could go to food and possibly a used bicycle, if she managed to find a seller in the city. After her shower, she gathered her clothes from the floor, and decided to be an adult and take them to the laundry room. She didn't have any more laundry soap to wash them, nor the electricity to run the washing machine, but she threw them in there anyway, just to keep them from piling up in her bedroom like a slob. Then she went online with her phone to check each bill, and note when each one was due, that way it wouldn't take her by surprise again when they were cut off. She was very fortunate that she had time to pay the rest before that happened. With the pay-rate promised, she would be able to handle them.

Dessa sighed heavily. It was exhausting being an adult. She could imagine how hard taking care of everything was for Auntie, with more than her own mouth to feed. She felt guilty for being upset with her for raising her the way she did. Of course she would want to keep Dessa safe, to the point of being overbearing. She was tasked with protecting her little sister's orphaned child. If something terrible had happened to Dessa, it would make everything her aunt had done to that effect be for nothing. Who cares if Auntie's fears were based on lunacy? The woman's brainwashing had still kept her niece safe enough that she lived to see adulthood. It was something that Dessa needed to accept and understand - that Auntie had not meant to ruin her. In her own way, she did the best she could. 

Thank you . . . I'm sorry I judged you for it,  Dessa silently apologized to her aunt's vacant recliner. Who knows what you sacrificed to take care of me all those years?  I should have been more grateful.

.   .   .

  This time, there was no Skinhead to bother her as she went through the Killing Grounds. She paid extra attention to her path, determined to commit it to memory. She decided that she would sit down on her break - whether that dickhead was at his usual table or not - and draw out the way there on a piece of paper, that way even if she didn't get paid this week and her phone was shut off, she could still get to The Den. She made herself wait at home until it was time to get walking, and went straight to the dressing rooms to change for her shift. She was extremely disappointed that Penny was not the lady-in-waiting who would assist her tonight. It was an older woman who introduced herself when Dessa walked in.

"You must be Dessa. My name is Heather, and I'm here to help you dress."

Heather didn't smile, and Dessa tried not to let her face fall. Penny didn't work tonight - it must have been one of her days off. She had to get undressed in front of someone she had just met. Again. She wanted to let out a string of curses, but instead she walked to the cubbies, plugged her phone in, and started to peel off her clothes with shaking fingers.

"Nice to meet you, Heather," Dessa forced herself to say.

After Dessa had removed all her clothing and placed it in her cubby, she stood in front of Heather who wasted no time handing her the petticoat. As Dessa shimmied into it, Heather was appraising her with narrowed, grey eyes.

"Don't you eat?" Heather asked tersely.

Dessa flinched at the question, and her anxiety multiplied. 

"I, uh - " Dessa choked on her response as Heather shook her head in disapproval and instructed her to stand in a way that made it easier for her to help her into the heavy dress. Without demanding an answer to her rude question, Heather fixed the corset to her, practically barking at her to hold it in place so she could tighten the laces. 

"You're so rail-thin, the corset is hardly necessary," Heather muttered under her breath.

Dessa found herself wanting to apologize, as if she had any reason to do so. The woman was not nice at all, and if anything made her want to quit this job, it was being treated this way by this insulting lady-in-waiting. When she saw Penny again, she was going to hug her until the copper-haired sweetheart couldn't breathe. She didn't want anyone else to help her dress - not if they were going to judge her body so openly. When Heather was finished, she turned away without a word, and Dessa forced herself to thank her, despite her cruelty. Heather didn't so much as glance back. For fuck's sake, had she no sense of decency? It wasn't Dessa's fault that she was basically on death's door two days ago. 

She did her best to shake it off. She would not cry. The woman was harsh, but it wasn't anything she couldn't handle. Heather was obviously not a fan of her job, and her bitchiness was most likely sprinkled over everyone she had to dress. Not just Dessa. She didn't think that she was that special to be the only target for Heather's exasperation. She shoved her sneakers on and all but stomped out of the dressing rooms. She was surprised to see her boss talking with Lola in the foyer. Mr. Talon was excusing himself to leave early for the day. Dessa hadn't seen him since he left her with Maggie to be trained.

"Ah, if it isn't my new waitress!" Mr. Talon smiled brightly at her, his ring catching the light as he reached out to her.

Dessa gave her best attempt at a curtsy. She knew not to try to shake his hand this time, and shyly placed her hand in his. He once again graced her with a swift kiss on the back of her hand. He didn't release it right away though, and instead, he held it for a moment longer. Dessa blushed profusely, and was unable to ignore the way Lola glared at her from the podium behind his back.

"How do you fare?" Mr. Talon asked her, sounding like he had an earnest interest in her well-being. "Are you being treated well?"

"O-oh," Dessa stammered nervously. "I love this job. Thank you so much for hiring me."

She purposely avoided confirming or denying any ill-treatment, and something in his shockingly-blue eyes told her that he noticed the evasion, though he didn't call her on it. He patted her gently with his other hand, before releasing his hold.

"No need to thank me, dear. The pleasure is all mine." Mr. Talon's smile returned, and she had to admit to herself that the hostess was not lacking in good taste. He was a handsome man. "You may collect your first payment on Friday. Have Magdalena escort you to my office upon your arrival."

The day after tomorrow!  Dessa could have squealed.

She thanked him again, and he waved his hand in the air, as if dismissing the need for it. He turned to Lola who instantly schooled her expression into a more pleasant one. It was clear that the hostess was interested in the boss, and didn't enjoy the attention Mr. Talon had just showed Dessa.

"I'll be taking my leave now. I bid you both a good day." 

And with that, Dessa briskly walked away, eager to leave the foyer so that she wouldn't end up alone with Lola. She didn't want to get her eyes gouged out by the hostess' long fingernails. She successfully escaped before anything like that took place. Only when she passed through the parlor room and made it down the hall that led to the kitchen with her eyes unharmed, did she breathe a sigh of relief. She would be paid at the end of the week. It was a fucking miracle, a blessing from the heavens. Regardless, she would still make her map today. Dessa would always err on the side of being too careful. It was just how she was brought up.