Rags Ch. 01

Anne heard a throat clearing behind her and she whipped around to see Oscar standing just outside the door.

"Is there somewhere you wish me to place this bag, miss?" Oscar asked.

"Yes, over there in the corner would be perfect." Anne replied.

She watched Oscar warily enter the room, depositing the bag at the indicated spot before turning around and shuffling towards the door in what she guessed was his version of hurrying. She smiled at the old man's actions. Chivalry was obviously not dead yet, he was scared to be in the room with them. She followed him back out to the taxi to grab the rest of the bags. It took several trips, but eventually all of the bags had made it into the hotel room. Oscar remained outside of the door while Anne went to grab money for the fare and tip. All the while, young Layla remained at the door asking why the "King" did not get to stay at the "castle" with them. Anne was smiling as she returned to Oscar with the money. He thanked her, but seemed like he needed to say something. The old man was shuffling his feet and looking very nervous, his eyes betrayed his concern.

"Look, miss. I don't mean to get you all concerned-."

Anne looked down at her daughter," Layla, could you go to the bathroom and get ready to take a bath. I will be there in a few minutes to check on you."

"Awwwww, mommy. Do I have to?" Layla complained.

Anne smiled.

"Yes you do, missy. If you want to get to try on your new PJ's you will go in the bathroom."

"Awwwww. No fair." Layla sulked as she trudged as slow as she possibly could towards the bathroom. Her face never looked away from the two adults, her eyes dancing back and forth between the two hoping for some form of salvation from having to get ready to go to bed.

"Mind your momma now, Princess. Even princesses need their rest so they can wake up happy and beautiful in the morning." Oscar said quickly. Layla smiled brightly at him then ran into the bathroom. Oscar chuckled and looked at the smiling face of Anne after they heard the bathroom door finally close. She looked directly at his eyes and he felt nervous.

"Miss, I mean what I said earlier. I know you are on hard times. A lot of us are. There is not much good in this city for nobody. Those days have long passed this city by. Bad people go through this neighborhood at night. You need to stay inside. Stay inside."

Oscar turned away and started shuffling slowly towards the taxi cab.

"Thank You, Oscar!" Anne shouted after him. Oscar turned around to give her a toothy smile.

"You're welcome, miss. You and your daughter have made my evening. I don't get to say that often. Have a nice evening, miss." Oscar turned around and resumed his slow hobbling gait. Anne watched him climb into the taxi cab and drive away. As the cab rounded the corner onto the street and puttered off out of sight, she felt ill at ease from the man's warning. She turned around and walked back into the hotel room. She closed the door behind her and walked across the room towards the bathroom. She heard the water running and lots of splashing.

"Are you okay in there, baby?" Anne asked.

"Yeah!" Layla shouted, her scream accompanied by a loud splash of water onto tiled floor. Anne rolled her eyes. There was definitely going to be a mess that would need to be cleaned up.

"Do you want help?" Anne asked.

"I'm not three years old, mommy! They even have soap and everything in here!" Layla shouted, her excitement obvious. She had not often had opportunities for baths in a real tub. Layla sounded like she was having the time of her life and Anne decided to leave her daughter alone. They still needed to eat and Anne had an idea. She pulled out the phone book wondering if her favorite pizza place downtown was still delivering at this time of night. She looked up the number and when she called she couldn't believe her luck, they delivered to the hotel. She ordered a couple of pizzas and a dessert along with drinks. Her daughter was going to have a real treat tonight.

Anne hung up the phone and sat in the chair, she didn't want to lay on the bed being filthy. She slept in filth and dirt often enough. She wanted to be clean, the chance to lay in a clean bed in a clean room. Though the items in the room were a little dated, it was obvious that the rooms were well cared for. For the price she paid, she was surprised. She had it made getting this room for her daughter and herself. When she heard the water draining out of the bathtub, she got up and went to the bathroom door just as her daughter emerged a sopping mess. Anne smiled at her daughter and grabbed one of the towels and dried Layla off. She picked up the little girl and threw the giggling girl onto one of the beds. She launched a tickling attack on Layla's sides and immediately the girl was thrashing about in fits of hysterical laughter.

"Mommmmyyyyyyyy! Stooooppp!" Layla squealed.

"What?" Anne asked, continuing.

"Mo-, Mo-, Moooommmmmmy! S-. Stooooop!"

"What? I can't hear you over all of your laughing!" Anne said playing dumb. She continued the assault on her ticklish daughter.

"P-P-Pleeeeease!" Layla squealed.

"Please, what?" Anne teased, now switching her attack to Layla's feet. The girl was ticklish everywhere.

"Sto- stop tickling MEEEEeeEeEee!" Layla yelled laughingly.

"Okay." Anne said with a shrug of her shoulders. She reached into the bags and started rooting around for the pajamas she bought for Layla. Soon, she felt small nudges against her shoulder. She didn't turn her head. It certainly did not take long. From the corner of her eyes she could see the smirking face of her daughter as she sat next to her, legs dangling playfully over the edge. She was launching her shoulder against her mother's side, biting her lower lip and trying to give a cutesy face. She wanted to be tickled again, but Anne desperately needed a shower. She found the pajamas and handed Layla one of the new pairs of underwear she bought and instructed her to get dressed and that dinner would be there soon.

Layla started getting dressed and Anne knew this was her chance to get to the bathroom before her daughter was able to create some new distraction that would keep her from getting any chance to do so at all. She slipped into the bathroom and locked the door just as she heard the pitter-patter of feet running to the bathroom door. Anne breathed a sigh of relief and smiled. She leaned against the door and stared at the shower for a minute.

A strange feeling swept through her body right then. She stood there looking at the bathtub as though it was the first time she had ever heard of such a thing. For so many years, she would take baths and showers as though it were the most normal thing in the world. It was strange how you could take something so simple for granted when you have it. After she became homeless to save her baby from being given to some stranger who could never appreciate it as she could, showers were a rarity. Occasionally she would be able to get them room in one of the homeless shelters, but that was a roll of the dice. They filled up quickly, especially during the winter months. Most times, people were nice, but occasionally there were rotten people who she was scared of. Usually she avoided the shelters when she could.

Anne looked around the bathroom. The toilet, the toilet paper holder stocked with a brand-new roll. Small shampoo and conditioner bottles were on the sink along with soap. Fluffy towels hung from the towel rack. She ran her hand over the counter, the sink nearly beckoning to her. She turned on the water, her hand lingering on the knob. The tears streamed down her face just as suddenly as the water had run out of the faucet.

Knock, knock.

Anne gasped.

"Mommy?" Layla asked, her voice muffled slightly by the door.

Anne tried to clear her throat as silently as she could. She was grateful right then for the closed and locked door so that her daughter could not see her tear-streaked face. Layla was a worrier. She was a happy girl, a bit naïve but compassionate. She hated to see anyone sad, especially Anne.

"Yes, baby?"

"Are you crying?" Layla asked.

Anne couldn't help the tears as her daughter asked that question. She stifled her sobs as best she could, and dared not blow her nose to give herself away.

"Mommy?"

"No, baby. I just got the sniffles all of a sudden." Anne lied.

"Okay. Can I watch the tv?" Layla asked.

"Cartoons only, baby." Anne replied with a smile. She heard the feet pattering their way towards the bed. Anne sighed again, at least that should give her time to pull herself together. Suddenly she heard the small feet again rushing towards the door.

Knock, knock.

"Mommy? How do you turn it on?" Layla asked.

"Look for the remote control baby."

"What does it look like?"

"It is long and black with a bunch of buttons on it."

"Like shirt buttons?" Layla asked, the confusion in her voice evident. Anne giggled.

"No, sort of like elevator buttons. Remember that elevator you had me ride with you for half an hour?" Anne asked.

"It was not half an hour!" Layla protested.

"My poor feet sure felt like it was."

"Mommmmeeeeee!"

"Did you find it yet?" Anne asked to distract her daughter.

"Hold on!" Layla shouted excitedly and ran back to the main room.

"Found it!" she called quickly. "How do you use it?"

Anne rolled her eyes and smiled.

"Push the red button on the top. The up and down arrows with a c and an h on it lets you change the channels. Just remember- cartoons only."

"Okay!" Layla shouted.

Anne listened for the television to turn on. Satisfied it was on and her daughter sufficiently distracted to allow her to take a shower in peace, she grabbed the bottles of shampoo and conditioner as well as a bar of soap and placed them in the bathtub where she could reach them easily. She turned the water on, letting it heat up. She began to strip off her clothes. Piece by piece she removed each item of clothing. This was her last remaining outfit from when she left home nearly seven years ago. She inspected each item in turn, aghast at how truly filthy they were after years of being on the streets. The shirt had holes in several spots, the white color had turned into a faded gray color. She removed her pants, gazing at the holes and the areas that showed the haphazard attempts at patching up the denim garment. It had been her only pair of pants left, the others long since tossed away. The blue had been nearly worn out and a long tear in the side had allowed anyone to see her underwear. It was filthy like everything else. She removed her bra, also her last one. She was surprised it had held up all of this time, and was almost reluctant to let it go except that she had just bought a bunch of new ones. Her panties were last to go. The garment was worn exceptionally thin to the point that a once fairly thick cotton garment was now sheer in many places, the gusset long ago worn out and was covered in faded period stains from when she could not afford to get pads.

Anne threw each item on the floor after looking at them and looked at herself in the mirror, starting to fog from the now heated water flowing from the tub faucet. Anne gasped slightly at the toll her years on the streets had taken on her body. She was still an attractive woman, at least. However she was extremely thin, her looks borderline anorexic compared to the fit and muscular woman she had been when she fled home. Her abdomen was drawn sharply inwards underneath a very visible ribcage. Her arms and legs were thin and almost gangly in appearance, her collarbone, scapulae and shoulders clearly visible. Her breasts had shrunk in size to a point she had not seen them since she was twelve. Though they had not been very large when she left, they still sagged with an unhealthy look to them. Her face was drawn in entirely, her facial features sharpened after long periods of malnourishment to the point her skin was drawn tightly against the skull. Her hair, a once long, shoulder-length mane of silken brunette brilliance was now dull and haggard, split ends were everywhere and she was afraid to consider how many mats of hair were waiting to ambush her when she got around to brushing it. Her pubic hair was an immense forest where she had been used to keeping it trimmed and neat.

She looked into her own eyes, sunken and hollow-looking. The brilliant blue shone in them just as clearly, but they were tired eyes, defeated eyes. All over, her skin wore the grime and filth of the streets. Sweat, tears, and blood had done the rest. Poor hygiene had long been a problem. Repeated infections had left her skin scarred in several places.

Anne turned from the mirror. She was disgusted by what she had herself become, and what she knew she would have to do to try to make things better. At least her daughter would not have to go through any more. Layla was too precious to her. She was already thin enough as it was. Layla had never had adequate nutrition to grow. She remained small and very thin. Anne climbed into the tub and pulled the curtain shut as she remembered everything as though it was just yesterday. She pulled the knob and allowed the warm water to fall over her body. It jolted bad memories of childbirth on the streets, a rainy night in the middle of the summer. She had found the warehouse and chosen that as her place to live, and hide. Her daughter's birth had come as a surprise, born two months premature. She did what was necessary to survive. She begged when she needed to, she went to the few places that offered meals to the homeless, she even stole when she absolutely had no other choice. Her daughter was her priority. The long nights she spent trying to nurse an infant to health that had little interest in breast milk, the only thing she could do for her baby. She had spent many nights crying herself to sleep with worry. There was nothing more she could do. She did everything she could, and the challenges only mounted with time.

Anne marveled as the heated water began to release the tension in her tired muscles how far she had come from those days and nights of constant worry and sorrow. She still worried. Every single day was a constant struggle to figure out where she would go, what she would do, how was she going to feed her daughter. Layla was able to take it all into stride far more easily than she was. Layla was born homeless. She had no clue in her mind what it was to have a home, electricity and running water every day. She did not have a clue what it was like to come home and be able to count on air conditioning during the sweltering heat of the summer, or heat in the frigid cold of the lonely winter nights. She had little experience with these things in her young life so she had never been able to take them for granted as she used to. When Anne ran away, she was in for the greatest shock of her life. It had not been easy on her whatsoever.

The greatest adaptation she had to make was companionship. At home, she had even taken that for granted. She and her family were friendly and loving, but largely they all kept to their own individual routines. What she missed the most was the friendship of people her age. She had been planning on college for years, but when she found out she was pregnant and that her parents wanted her to give her baby away, everything of that life was promptly forgotten and lost. She was 24 years old, homeless and a mother all alone on the city streets. She had her daughter, of course. That still did not relieve her of the awful burden of being unable to really speak to people her age, and on her intellectual level. Most people her age were either working or had graduated college and just entering the work force. She was so far behind, the challenges were daunting, but she had to learn to let it go along with everything else. Her daughter's survival was the most important thing in her life now. Everything else paled in comparison.

Anne picked up a washcloth and lathered it with soap. Slowly she began to draw it over her skin. The softness of the fabric was soothing as the hot water ran down her skin to the tub drain. She watched in mingled horror and fascination as she realized just how dirty she had been. It had been a few months since she had been able to take a real bath, and the amount of grime and filth coming off of her body was telling. With every bit of skin scrubbed clean of the street filth that had accumulated since that time, she began to feel a little more human. She washed and rinsed her hair quickly after having scrubbed herself clean. Once again, she was astonished at the amount of filth that ran off of her. She took a brush that she had brought with her to the bathroom and began the delicate process of trying to undo all of the mats and tangles in her hair. A few times she could not help but yelp in pain as she tugged at particularly stubborn clots of her hair that had weaved together. Grabbing a razor, she shaved her legs and trimmed her pubic hair. When she finished, she felt almost normal again.

Anne shut off the water and reached for a towel. The fluffy fabric against her skin felt amazing as she dried herself off quickly. The air outside of the shower curtain was cold and the goosebumps on her skin were rising quickly. She wrapped the towel around herself and tidied up the bathroom before heading out into the main room. She looked at her daughter, whose eyes were fixed on the television screen, but the volume was not on. She had forgotten how to tell her daughter how to do that. She chuckled to herself and grabbed the remote to allow her daughter to hear what was going on. She picked up the remote and turned around and dropped the remote as she saw what her daughter had been watching.

Two women were on the screen in a bedroom setting. Their legs were intertwined and they were rubbing their pussies together. She could see their nipples were absolutely stiff, and Anne's own nipples were quick to follow suit. She heard her daughter move slightly on the bed behind her and she realized she had totally forgotten that her daughter had been watching. She quickly picked up the remote and changed the channels until she found some cartoons.

"Mommy? What were those two women doing?" Layla asked.

Anne had no idea how to respond. This was not a conversation she had ever thought she would be having with her six-year-old, at least not this soon. Why couldn't it have waited until her daughter were older? Preferably 18? Twenty would be better, but that would be beyond hoping for. Anne by herself had discovered masturbation when she was only twelve. Eventually it would have come along as a topic of conversation, but she did not expect it to happen liked this. Her daughter had been fixated on lesbian porn, and Anne was even aroused by it. She had always been straight as an arrow, and the thoughts of lesbian sex had always disgusted her. Now that she had seen it, however-. Anne shook her head of her thoughts and went to the bags where her new clothes were.

"Mommy?" Layla asked, clearly expecting an answer.

"They were doing grown-up stuff, sweetie. You should not have been watching that."

"Why did that woman lick the other woman's private area?" Layla asked.

"Layla!" Anne turned around, wanting to drop the conversation. Her daughter turned back to the television and watched the cartoons. She could tell she had upset her daughter by yelling at her. Layla was cold and rigid. Anne sighed in frustration and put on the first clothes she could find that were halfway decent. She grabbed the keycard and mentioned to her daughter that she was stepping outside for a minute. She got no response, her daughter throwing a temper tantrum after being yelled at. Anne sighed heavily and unlocked the bolt lock. She threw open the door and slammed it behind her. She needed to cool down. Standing outside would give her the opportunity to do that while she waited for the pizza delivery guy to arrive. It was probably a fifteen-minute drive between the hotel and the pizza place. The food should have been arriving any moment. Anne decided to wait outside by her room on the back corner of the hotel. The parking lot was dimly lit by a single light pole whose bulb was dim. Everything around her was thrown into deep, dark shadow. She glanced around nervously, trying to make out any sign of trouble in the eerie deep dark of the night.