Arina, the.writer [top ten books of all time .txt] 📗

Chapter One

A/N: You can skip it but just a few things:

My first story on this site! Read it, comment and 'like' please :D And btw 'Baba' is just a name she calls him- it kind of means uncle to her, so don't ask me where the word is from, I just thought to use it, haha xD Also, no sex scenes will be described although the story is about prositution.The picture shows the actress who'd play the main character.

Anyway, hope you enjoy it!


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Her peculiarly small, fragile frame was obstructed by the towering shadow of her step-father. She knew not of what was going on, she was too young to conceive the events that were occurring around her- the events that would shape the rest of her life.

The room was still with the inaudible whispering escaping the lips of the cruel men that surrounded her. The framed photos stood lopsided on the peeling walls. The stains on the carpet were covered up by a furry rug in an attempt to hide any signs of poverty. However, this attempt was in vain. It was obvious to anybody who entered the apartment that the Molotovs lived in a state far from luxury.

"Baba, I want to go back to sleep," she announced much to the surprise of everyone. It was the first words she had spoken since she had been awakened and guided downstairs. Many of the men had been led to believe the young girl wouldn't utter a word unless vitally necessary- this trait, they thought, would prove to be useful in the future.

Arina's step-father, Isaak, placed a forced delicate arm on his step-daughter's shoulder and crouched down to her level.

"Darling, you can go to sleep soon. We've just got sort something out here first, okay?" He said whilst getting back up.

"But Baba, why do I have to be here?"

Her words echoed around the almost empty sitting room. The tension could be cut with a butter knife. Isaak became more aggressive now. He bent down instantaneously and placed his arms on the young girl's shoulders once again.

"Be quiet. Your father has some important business to proceed with, just keep your mouth shut and stand here." His words were bitter. Arina still hadn't grown accustomed to the fact he referred to himself as her 'father' when she clearly knew that wasn't the case. Her real father was gone.

"You're not my father," she muttered but luckily for her, none of the men heard her. They had ignored the girl and continued with their ''business''.

Arina stood awkwardly in the centre of the room while the men pointed and discussed her. She failed to understand the foreign language spoken by everybody in the room- her, herself, had only learnt English. She had only ever lived in England.

Eventually, heads were nodded, hands were shaken and decisions were made. Some men stood up and left the room with their heads held low until the room was once again empty, except for the presence of a man and her step-father.

The man was rather large; his shirt clung to his chunks of flab. He had a moustache which almost mimicked that of Hitler's, and his hair was parted through the middle with an askew hair line. As he approached Arina, more of his specific facial features became apparent to her.

His skin was masked with blotches of miscoloured skin. Diminutive pieces of dark hair stood all over his tanned skin protectively. Arina was scared of him the second she threw a glance at him.

"Arina, darling!" He exclaimed. "I'm Mustafa; you'll be coming with me." He added whilst reaching out an arm to get a hold of her.

Arina's heart stopped. She didn't want to go with this man. He looked far too grotesque for her. She ran behind her step-father and clung onto his trousers.

"Come on, Arina. You're thirteen years old, you're grown up now. You can go with the man. Don't be scared." Isaak shot deceiving words of encouragement at her. Arina wasn't fooled.

"I don't want to go with him. I want to stay here."

"Arina, you must go with him." Her father now became more serious, he had raised his voice. He had a look on his face that said 'don't argue with me' but Arina didn't care, she would stand her ground.

"No, Baba! I won't." Her voice also grew with anger.

As soon as she said those words she feared for herself. Never had she answered back to her step-father. She was far too scared of the consequences that she was sure would soon follow. As he stepped closer to her, she began screaming frantically.

"I'm not going with him!" Her voice echoed her thoughts. As her step-father attempted to release her grasp from off his clothes, she grew louder; her high-pitched screams filled the room.

"No, you can't make me!" For the first time in her life, hostility could be heard in her voice.

Surprisingly, Isaak didn't raise a hand to her. He just let out a sigh.

"Please Arina; don't make this more difficult than it already is for me. I'm doing the best thing for you- it's what your mother would want."

"Uh-uh." She folded her arms across her shoulder.

"Look, you either go with him at your own accord, or he's going to drag you out. You don't have a choice in the matter."

"You know what?" The man suddenly jumped up. "I don't have time for this. I've many things I could be doing right now instead of this. I'll come by tomorrow with the full cash and I want this girl ready. You understand?!"

Isaak wiped a sweat from his forehead, relieved he wouldn't have to proceed with arguing with Arina- he knew she could be very stubborn when she wanted to be.

"Yes, yes. Of course, Mustafa. Anything you want."

Mustafa got up and stormed out of the room. Isaak shadowed him, whispering his apologies all the way up to the door until Mustafa slammed the door shut.

The moment the sound of the door resounded around the apartment, Arina attempted to run up the stairs into the safety of her room, but failed. Isaak was at the foot of the stairs before she could escape.

"What the fuck was that about?!" He yelled. "What is wrong with you, you stupid child?!"

"Baba, I'm sorry!" Arina's large eyes pleaded for Isaak to forgive her.

"I don't want your stupid apology!" He barked. Suddenly, his large palm met with Arina's cheek in a painful moment. She didn't scream; she had grown used to the pain. She simply placed her hands over her face to stop any more slaps touching her; she had acquired this technique to stop Isaak from hitting her. It had worked. He sunk down to the ground with his face in his palms.

"Do you understand what you nearly caused, Arina? This man is important for us both! It will be up to him whether we can survive or not. We won't be together any more, but does that really matter? You'll have a new life and you'll forget all about me. Go with the man tomorrow, please, Arina. I beg you. Don't ruin this. It's the best chance we've got."

Arina didn't listen to the words coming out of Isaak's mouth. She simply saw the tears falling from his eyes and immediately felt the need to comply with his wishes.

"Okay, Baba."

And that was all it took. Arina had agreed to her life being flip sided... for the worse.


******


"Mamma! Mamma!" Arina yelled from her bed.

This had become a night time ritual for Isaak- one that he'd be glad of its riddance once Arina left the house. He threw his covers off, rubbed his eyes and ambled out of his bed for the last time. It was convenient for them both that they shared a room; it made it easier for Isaak to comfort her at night.

He sat on the side of her bed.

"Arina, wake up."

When she didn't, he shook her shoulders.

"Arina, wake up. You're having a bad dream."

He continued shaking her shoulders until her eyes slowly flickered open. She let out a silent yawn.

"You were having a bad dream," Isaak announced as if she hadn't