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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1232001-A-Question-of-Innocents
Rated: 13+ · Chapter · LGBTQ+ · #1232001
Two teenage girls from opposite sides of the river meet and fall in love
                                      A Question of Innocents


Chapter One


    She could hear his footsteps drawing closer as he chased her through the factory. It was late and the workers had all gone home for the night. There was no one there to help her escape. This wasn’t the first time he had brought her to the factory after hours. The first time was more than a year ago and she still cringed at the memory. Her breath came in labored gasps as she ducked behind one of the machines. She had to keep moving. She had to hide. She knew what he would do to her if he found her. She knew how he would hurt her again. Even at the tender age of four Lexa knew that the smell of alcohol meant trouble for her. Her father liked to drink and when he drank he wasn’t a very nice man.

      Lexa was use to the yelling. She was use to seeing him throw things and smashing up their small house when he had too much to drink. She was even use to him telling her she was worthless, a mistake for which he would have to pay for the rest of his life. All that was bad enough but it was not the worst of it, not by far. No, the constant threats and hitting were much worse. Since the death of her mother Lexa had been left alone with her father. There was no one who could protect her from the bitter drunk and his angry outbursts. Even the beatings were better than what he had in store for the young girl now. He only brought her to the factory when he was really angry. He only brought her here when he wanted to use her to satisfy his needs or to trade her to another man for the same purpose.

    Lexa was terrified! She hated it when her father forced her to do those things. It was even worse for her when he would give her to someone else and he watched as they hurt her. Lexa was too young to understand that the men had paid her father to let them have sex with her. She just knew that he was supposed to protect her and here he was about to give her to yet another monster to be tortured and used. Frantically she scrambled out from under the conveyer belt and started towards the stairs. She was halfway across the room when she heard heavy footsteps slowly approaching on the metal walkway that circled above the western section of the factory. The walkway led to the offices and bathrooms on the second floor.

    Lexa froze as she heard the steps drawing closer. She was paralyzed with fear and yet she knew she had to get away before he found her. Slowly the steps came around the corner. They stopped briefly as the security guard shone his flashlight down onto the floor of the main factory. Mr. Hayden had been a security guard at the factory for more than ten years. He was a good man, kind and quick to laugh. Lexa remembered seeing him at her daddy’s company picnic a few weeks earlier. He had been playing with his grandchildren. She tried to cry out to him. She thought that maybe he could help her escape the terrible plans that her father had in store for her that night. She tied to scream but fear had stolen her voice. Lexa always lost her voice when she got really afraid. Frantically she looked around. There was no sign of her father or of the stranger he had met up with outside the factory. Desperate to escape Lexa ran towards the stairs. She had just reached out her little hand and felt the coolness of the metal banister against her fingertips. She thought she was safe but then he came from behind, whisking her up off her feet and back into the shadows and the horrors that awaited her there.

    Lexa awoke with a shutter. Sweat poured down her face and back. Her eyes darted about the room nervously searching for her tormentor. Realizing that she was alone, slowly Lexa lowered the knife she was gripping tightly in her right hand.

    Lexa had this particular nightmare many times before and it was always the same. The smell of booze, the factory, the desperate attempt to escape, they were more than mere images in a nightmare. They were bits of memories that had been locked away but refused to remain hidden. Lexa reached for the lamp beside her bed and turned it on. Running hands back through her damp hair she sighed heavily as she got out of bed. She glanced at the clock. It said the time was 5:23. It would be at least another hour and a half before the sun came up. Lexa glanced about the room trying to decide what to do. She knew it was useless to try to go back to sleep. Rummaging through her beat up old dresser Lex pulled out a pair of dark blue sweat pants and a gray cotton tee shirt. She got dressed and sat down to pull on her sneakers. Tying her hair back at the nape of her neck Lexa opened her bedroom window and silently slipped out onto the fire escape.

    When Lexa reached the ground she moved carefully to the living room window. She pauses to peek inside. Her father David was asleep on the couch. The faint bluish light coming from the television flickered. She heard her father cough several times. It was the deep wrenching cough of a man who had smoked two packs of cigarettes a day for the last twenty years. Lexa quickly moved on. When she reached the street Lexa stopped to glance in both directions as she tried to decide which way she wanted to go. If she went to the right it would lead her down through the warehouse district towards the docks. If she went to the left it would take her to the river and over to the north side of town. She decided to go left and headed for the bridge that would take her to the north side.

    The city of Campbell was a city greatly divided. To the north of the river lye the posh homes of the upper middle class with their swimming pools and fancy foreign cars displayed in front of their houses like trophies. There were luscious manicured lawns and scenic parks where the children could play free from the dangers of broken glass and dirty needles. Carefully arranged private communities protected by tall fences and security guards keeping watch at the gates were scattered alone the shoreline of the north side of the river. Lexa ran past these private neighborhoods where the richest of the rich lived and headed farther uptown. She ran to try to clear her head of the horrible images from her dream. She ran because she needed to get away but also because she longed to reach the one place where she had always felt oddly at ease.

    Turning onto Pembroke Avenue Lexa continued running until the house came into view. The house belonged to the mayor of Campbell, Jeremy Lauren. In many aspects the house way not so different than all the other homes in the area. It was a two-story home, white. It had a long front porch with patio chairs and small aluminum tables placed about to create a comfortable welcoming place for the mayor and his family to pass an warm summers evening. Mrs. Lauren had decorated the porch with a variety of hanging plants, potted flowers, and a brightly painted humming bird wind chime.

    Lexa slowed to a jog and then stopped across the street from the house. It was like the house had called to her, beckoning her to come if only to stand and gaze longingly upon it from a distance. Lexa had jogged past Mayor Laurens home many times in the past. If the truth were known she often would cross the river at night just to come and stare at the lights in the windows and the silhouettes of the people who lived inside. Lexa couldn’t explain why she came; she just knew that she had to. She felt drawn to the house from the first time she came across it on one of her runs. There was something oddly familiar about the place that kept drawing her back time and again. Somehow just being there made her feel safe. Maybe it was the fact that a real family lived inside, the type of family that Lexa always wished that she could have that drew her here.

    Lexa barely remembered her mother. Barbara Marshal was brutally beaten to death when Lexa was three years old. Lexa was there when it happened. She heard her mothers’ cries. She saw the man who beat her and left her to die. As hard as she tried though, Lexa was never able to remember the mans’ face. After her mom was killed Lexa was left with alone with David and he was never much of a father to her. The only time he paid any attention to his daughter was when he was yelling at her or beating on her. Lex never knew what would set him off. There were times when he would leave her alone for weeks at a stretch. There were also times when he would have a bad day at work or someone would say something he didn’t like at one of the many bars he frequented and he would come home and take it out on Lexa. Since he was so unpredictable Lexa always found it wise to avoid him as much as possible.

    Lex leaned against a tree and pulled out a cigarette. As she reached for her Zippo Mayor Lauren opened his front door to get the morning newspaper. Jeremy Lauren was an average looking man in his mid forties. He had short graying hair and wore dark wire rimmed glasses. Mayor Lauren leaned over to pick up his newspaper then caught sight of Lexa watching him from across the street. He straightens his suit jacket and glares at Lexa in annoyance. “What are you doing?” he calls out.

    “Who me?” Lexa asks.

    “Yes you. What are you hanging around here for? You don’t belong here. You should go back across to your own side of town before you get into trouble,” the mayor shouts across the street before going back inside and closing the door.

    “Jeremy, what are you shouting about?” Melissa Lauren asks her husband when he walks into the kitchen and sits down at the breakfast table.

    “It’s nothing.”

    “So you were yelling for no reason,” Melissa presses.

    “Oh just some punk from south side who was hanging around watching the house,” Jeremy replies. “I’m telling Mel those kids are going to be nothing but trouble for me,” he adds as she refills his coffee cup.

    “Who is going to be nothing but trouble?” Peter asks as he enters the kitchen.
   
    “Never you mind. Sit down and eat your breakfast,” Melissa tells her seventeen-year-old son. Peter sits down and looks at his father.

    “Listen I want you to kind of keep an eye on the twins today at school,” Jeremy says.

    “Why?” Peter asks as he inhales half a pancake in one gulp.

    “I just want to make sure that if there is trouble at the school that you and your sisters stay far way from it,” Jeremy says.

    “Girls you are going to be late if you don’t hurry up,” Melissa hollers in the direction of the stairs.

    “You don’t really think there is going to be trouble today do you?” Peter asks his father.

    “I hope not, but in case there is, I have arranged extra security to be on hand,” Jeremy replies.

    “I still say you are worrying over nothing dear. These are high school students we’re talking about. You act like you are preparing for gang warfare,” Melissa interjects.

    “I know they are high school students Mel but those kids aren’t like the kids around here. You’ve been to the south side of the city enough that you should know that,” Jeremy says.

    “Oh so just because they come from poor neighborhoods that automatically makes them bad kids?” Melissa asks.

    “I didn’t say that,” Jeremy protests as Samantha and Beth come in to join them for breakfast.

    “Good morning daddy,” Beth says as she leans over to kiss her father’s cheek.

    “Good morning angel,” he replies.

    “Samantha where is your sister?” Melissa asks impatiently.

    “Most likely still primping in front of the mirror,” Samantha replies.

    “I heard that,” Sidney says from the doorway.

    Although fraternal twins fourteen-year-old Sidney and her sister Samantha were in many ways very different from one another. Both girls had the same dark hair and brown eyes. Both were slightly shorter than average but that is where the similarities ended. While Sidney was confident and self-assured, Samantha was forever looking for acceptance from others. Samantha desperately wanted to be one of the popular girls. She wanted to be like Caitlin Weatherly, the most popular girl in their class. Sidney didn’t seem to care as much about fitting in. People had always been drawn to her. While Samantha felt like she had to work at making and maintaining friendships.

    Samantha told herself that this year would be different. This was their freshman year in high school. Unlike the junior high, the high school was a much larger building. She was looking forward to finally having her own classes and her own group of friends. Samantha and Sidney had always been in the same classes in the past and Samantha often felt like she was living in Sidney’s shadow. Oh sure she had friends but most of them were also friends with Sidney. Samantha sometimes thought that people were only nice to her because of her sister. This was going to be her year to step out on her own and prove that she didn’t need Sidney’s help to become popular.

    “Listen girls, things are bound to be a bit tense today what with all the students that are being bused over from across the river,” Jeremy said.

    “Beth, go get your book bag. It’s time for your bus,” Melissa said. When Beth left the room Mel leaned over her husbands shoulder and half whispered, “I don’t want to talking about this in front of her. She’s only eight Jeremy. You’ll scare her”.

    “I still don’t know why they have to come to our school,” Samantha said returning to the topic of the south side students.

    “Believe me I wish there was another way. Since South Valley High burned down I have been trying to find another alternative for their students but there just isn’t anything else we can do,” Jeremy says.

    “Look on the bright side. Maybe it won’t be so bad. Besides this means there is going to be a whole other group of new girls for me to choose from,” Peter says with a smirk as he gets up and reaches for his backpack.

    “You mean a whole other group of girls to turn you don’t,” Samantha corrects.

    “Ha, ha, very funny.”

    “On come on Peter. You wouldn’t really want to go out with any of those girls would you?” Samantha asks.

    “Sure, why not? Some of them are pretty cute,” Peter replies.

    “Even so, I’d be afraid of catching something from them if I were you.”

    “God Sam, sometimes you can be such a snob,” Sidney groans.

    “I’m not a snob. I just mean that with girls like that…who knows how many guys they have been with,” Samantha says.

    “Just because someone isn’t lucky enough to have the things we do, doesn’t automatically make them a slut,” Sidney points out.

    “You shouldn’t judge people by where they come from or how much money they have. I taught you better than that,” Melissa says.

    “Sorry mom,” Samantha mumbles.

    “All the same, I want the three of you to try to avoid any trouble over there,” Jeremy says. He puts his napkin on his plate, kisses his wife and heads for the door to go to work.

    “Your father worries too much. You just be nice and I am sure that you will have no problems,” Melissa says as the kids head out to school.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1232001-A-Question-of-Innocents