Oleander! CHAPTER FOUR!

Clarissa and Candy ran up the stairs back to their bedrooms; the sound of the bells rolling around still echoed up the stairway. Luckily for them, their shared bedroom was right by the stairwell, so they ducked in, shut the door, and listened tentatively. They were just in the nick of time, because at the other end of the dim hallway a door opened and slammed shut. Furious, stomping footsteps moved closer and closer at an alarming rate, and Clarissa cringed. The footsteps did not stop, however, but turned towards the stairs admist a sleepy groaning of protesting girls. 1

"That was Oleander," breathed Candy. Without another word between them, each girl hopped into her own bed and furiously willed herself to fall asleep- or at least fake it well. Downstairs, Oleander surveyed the damage done to her security system. A plastic bucket lay upturned on the floor, its contents strewn about. Tangled fishing wire still hung from the hook in the ceiling, and Oleander could see no signs of anyone entering completely. She sighed in relief, but her fear was being swiftly replaced with anger. 2

"Who the hell was it!?" she shouted at the ceiling. "Huh? Who was it?"
A loud booming came from the floor beneath her feet. Madame was hitting the ceiling with a broom stick.
"Shut it, girl!"
Oleander fumed and flung bells back into her bucket; as she moved around the doorway, the bucket and its contents bounced on the floor.
"I said shut it!"
"I said shut it!" Oleander mimicked to herself. She restrung the bucket over her doorway. Glancing around her room, she took stock of everything.3

Oleander's room was different because of what went on in it. It had a bookshelf under the window, a full length mirror by the door. There was, in fact, no bed. The only furniture other than the bookshelf was a set of two chairs. A thin rug sat between them. The only thing similar to the rest of the rooms in the bordello was the heavy wooden box beside one of the chairs. The young girl checked her secret spots around the room. Everything was ready. Chimes rang out from across the city... (CHECK TIME) eight o' clock. Oleander peeked out the window to see (WHAT WAS THE CITY'S NAME AGAIN?) Solarus City already in full swing. It smelled of spices and gas and smoke and morning fog and ocean air and garbage. She could almost touch the next building from her window; it was some kind of storage company. Below her were the two other floors of the bordello and the alley. To the east, where the sun was already climbing the sky, she could see the shimmer of the Mediterranean. To the west were demi-sky scrapers and high rise apartments.4

Enjoying her breath of air, she almost didn't notice the voice interrupting her dreams of freedom.
"Oleander! Oi, Oleander!"
She looked down to see a young dark haired man with a twinge of an accent hailing her, and she smiled.5

*
Upstairs, Candy had finally drifted off to sleep, but Clarissa was still waiting for sudden, instantaneous death to come upon her from Oleander's hands, and she had never wanted to die in her sleep. She covered her eyes from the bright sun and quieted her breathing to listen for footsteps on the stairs. She heard the voice call Oleander.
Curiousity overcame her anxiety, and she sat up in her bunk and scootched to the window. Down below her, Oleander's hair fanned out in the breeze, and below her was a boy. Clarissa'a eyes widened.
'So, that's her secret,' she thought.
She couldn't make out their conversation, but the boy seemed very excited about something and was pantomiming an escape. He threw up an imaginary rope and lassoed Oleander around her neck. Next he pretended to catch her and ride off in a fast automobile. Clarissa smiled and the girl below her laughed warmly. Her laugh just barely trickled through Clarissa's window, and it was beautiful.
Holding up one finger to the boy below, Oleander removed herself from the window. She reappeared a minute later and tossed something light down to the boy. He pulled it open; it was a home made necktie of some kind. The boy smiled hugely at Oleander, wrapped it around his neck despite the summer sunshine.
"Thank you!" he called and bowed, pressing his hands together.
He pointed to his wrist as if he was wearing a watch, signifying it was time to go.
"Are you still?" he asked loudly.
"I am. Do you still?" replied the object of his attention.
"I do. And will always." He bowed again, bring his closed palms to his forehead, and Oleander returned the gesture completing their ritual.
The younger watcher pulled away from her own window and laid down to think for a while, but lost herself in her thoughts and nodded off.6

Sleep is a funny thing, and when trained, functions just as well during daylight as it does at night. There is something about living a nocturnal lifestyle that affects dreams, though, and ages a body. The girls slept heavily but not soundly in the day time heat. When they dreamed, it was of water and shade and white flower petals. -Heras dreamed, as always, of the ocean, sometimes blistering hot and still, sometimes dark and foreboding. She did not know of the boy in the alley (OR DID SHE? BETTER LOOK THAT UP).-7

Oleander decided to spend the rest of her sleep-time in her work room (WHICH MIGHT CHANGE COMPLETELY IN DISCRIPTION BECAUSE I LIKE LEATHER BOOTS) reading and sewing up holes in old stuffed animals. Just because her life in the bordello would be over soon didn't mean that new girls would stop arriving and starting their own journey. 8

STILL WORKING. WHEE.9