Pronunciation Guide

Tuesday, June 10, 2014

“I” is for…uh…uh…

Wow. Eight days later. I am lame.

“I” is for…uh…uh…
Well, how about inn/innkeeper?
Sounds good; let’s go with it.

Oh, the inn.

I have no idea what my original story was. I know I had something planned, but it is gone from my mind. Because soon after I re-found this story, God derailed whatever plan I’d had and sent me spiraling into this insanity. (Ooh, “insanity” would’ve been another good word.)

I walked in to the youth service (for which I volunteered) late that day. I am often late; this was nothing new. The room was dark; a video was already playing. Leaning against the wall, I watched a girl telling her story. (Though I think the onscreen girl was a stand-in for the real one.)

I don’t remember her name. I don’t remember what country she was from. I don’t remember how she got away.

What I do remember still gives me chills.

Her friend/cousin said she’d found a job in a beauty parlor in another country, and the girl could get a job there too. Wanting to help provide for her family, the girl agreed. But when they got to the parlor, it wasn’t a parlor. It was a brothel. The traffickers told the girl that they knew where her family was, and if she didn’t do what they wanted, they’d kill them.

I stood there, mouth open in horror and fury, tears streaming down my cheeks.

The youth minister had talked about human trafficking before. But that is when it started becoming real to me. I wanted to do something. And an innocent (ooh, another word!) thought entered my mind.

What if the inn that my girl gets to isn’t a safe place, but a front for a prostitution thing?

That has changed everything.
Including me.

I’m not sure how much I should say about the innkeeper’s backstory, as Ari doesn’t know it, but here we go…

She was married to an H-guy, but in her husband’s absence, she was raped by a d-guy. (People get married rather young in my story-world.) She got pregnant and gave birth to a half-breed daughter. She kept the child a secret from her often-away husband, fearing he’d kill the child if he knew. Eventually, her fears took form – the daughter was discovered and the husband murdered her. He was killed soon after.

The innkeeper’s grief turned to rage, and rage to hatred. For all H-guys. In her twisted mind, she yearned to destroy them as they had destroyed her, to cut to the core of who they were. So she created the inn. She entices half-breeds, disguises them as human, and sells their services to H-guys only. She keeps a record of every man who enters her brothel, and plans that upon her death, the records will be sent out to different major cities. She is so consumed by hatred and pain that she can’t see the pain she is inflicting on innocent people.

Such is the eventual darkness of hatred and unforgiveness.

And on that note, I am done haha!

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