Hotel Liberty

Chapter 1 - Olivia

February 9th, 2020

I wake up to the smell of cigarette smoke, urine and blood. These days I am in another place, these days, I am not home.

My stomach growls and I notice the blood on my hands as I hold it. I realise the blood is dripping from my nose.

That’s right. I am here.

The door is locked and there are no windows. The floor is dusty and there are no tiles or carpeting. I can never tell whether it is day or night, and I can never tell how fast the time is passing. I am only ever allowed to eat when I am outside this room. Though, not too much, as I can't look suspicious.

I remember last night. I remember I had to wait on the bed with the sheets exposing certains parts of my body, and hiding other parts. I was not to speak or make any kind of contact other than the physical contact that is expected of me. I was to pour two drinks, one for me and one for the man who I was waiting for.

That is every night’s routine.

I'm just grateful I had the opportunity to eat, I hadn't had a bite in at least two days.

Some of the men seem nervous, almost considerate and kind. They awkwardly gesture towards the bed or ask me what happens next, at which point I am supposed to lure them into the bed.

But some of the men are clearly not nervous at all, and get easily angered when I take too long to get started. These men make me shiver, and they know it, they feed off of it. They have a disturbing lack of regard for what I want, especially when it's not them.

The man last night was one of those men. He walked in, smoking a cigarette and clenching his fists. He didn't greet me, and walked in as if this was a routine he was used to.

I smiled and tried to make small talk, which did not impress him. Nothing seemed to impress him.

I learnt early on that it was not up to me to decide what I want to do or not. The first time I was sent into a room for a man, Boss told me that he'd be watching everything. At first I thought he was being perverted and horny, but when I walked into the hotel room, I immediately noticed the camera on the ceiling. This was to make sure I did as I was told, and did not deviate. It was also to make sure that I couldn't tell any man that I was not, in fact, a prostitute, but that I was being held in a basement against my will and being forced to sleep with men in return for being kept alive.

Boss often reiterates the fact that he could get rid of me at any given time.

I have to sleep with men, and in exchange, I am allowed to have something to eat in the hotel room after we are done. In fact, the hotel room is where I feel the most human, even though there is nothing humane about this situation.

I have never been allowed contact with any of the other women being held here, but I know for a fact that there are others. On the first night I arrived, my screams echoed through the halls, but the echoes were not only my voice. Sometimes, I hear their cries when I am being taken to a hotel room. I can't make out exactly how many women there are, but it sounds like quite a few.

On my first night, I cried and cried until Boss and three other men burst into the room and dragged me by my arms into a hallway. There, my situation was described to me in great detail.

“We can tell by your looks that you'll be able to satisfy certain… needs” Boss began to say, “So, do everything that I tell you, and you won't get hurt. Do every single thing, exactly how I say you do it, and don't you dare do anything different, okay? Not one little bit different or you'll be offed quicker than those men get off.”

The bluntness of his words made me almost as uncomfortable as the way he held my arm so hard it went numb made me. But nothing, in the entirety of my life, has ever made me as uncomfortable and disgusted as what I have to do in the hotel rooms makes me.

But there is no escape. There is no way out.