EXILE, h. potter

p r o l o u g e .

(cw: forced sex work, rape, abuse, racism, and mentions of suicidal thoughts.)

...

Another client had just finished, leaving Violet on the bed; limp and alone. She never liked it, but it was either that or Mayleen would end up beating her to death. She hated being used but she at least had a small room with a bed; a small drawer in which she had all her music.

It was only the summers when she would have been thrown around like a rag doll, but then she'd attended Illvermory and pretended that she had a great summer, no one knowing what happened behind closed doors.

Violet lived at an orphanage until the summer of 1992. That year she became a "woman", and Miss Celine told her that she was selling her to a different home, one where she would have to work. The last thing she expected was this, being twelve years old and being told that if you don't let these men do what they want to you; then you're going to be useless and beaten senseless.

Violet, born Violeta Evelyn Zamora Luna in Nuevo León, Mexico, then moved to California when she was 7; where her mother and father, both muggles; were killed by a drunk driver. Well, that's what she was told. All of her extended family was back in Mexico, so she was sent to an orphanage in San Francisco. Once she turned twelve, she was sent to that place.

"Violet Evelyn Zamora, correct?"

Violet nodded, hoping that the place was filled with thick mattresses and good food; clueless of what was coming for her. After her parents died she decided to just go by Violet, not Violeta. Everyone would also just call her Violet anyways, so why not just drop the A?

"How old are you, Violet?" A woman at the front desk asked.

"Twelve?" Violet paused. "I don't speak great English, sorry." She spoke brokenly. She only spoke Spanish when she came to America, and a lot of kids from Mexico, Guatemala, Belize, and the rest of Central America, so there was classes specially for people like them.

"Well then learn it, or you'll have a lot coming for you." The woman told her coldly.

That sent shivers down her spine. "What?"

"Room 237. Could you understand that you useless Mexican?" The lady threw a key at her then Violet was running up the stairs and unpacking her things. Violet laid in her bed, slowly drifting off to sleep, hoping that she'll wake up at Illvermory.

Little did she know that in about an hour, two people would come in her room and pin her down, giving her a pill that knocks her out. She'd wake up with extreme pain in her privates, she had no idea what happened to her.

A girl a bit older than her walked into the room, she had beautiful red hair, but her eyes were filled with fear and sadness. "You just got your tubes tied, didn't you?" She asked, smoking a cigarette.

"What?" Violet questioned, confused about what that meant. She just wanted to go back to the girls home.

"You can't have kids, Bonita." The girl teased then walked out.

She was now listening to the Mixtape that her friend at school made her, and wiping the tears that ran down her face as she looked down at the mark left on her leg. August was always the worst out of all the months. The men were more aggressive, and for some reason, Violet had seasonal sadness during that month.