Bar Girl by David Thompson

didn’t have a clue as to where she was going or what she was going to do. She just knew she had to get away.
    Even as she walked along the dusty road clutching her small bundle of belongs, she could hear the voice of her mother. The condemnation. The spite. Their relationship was over. The mother despised the daughter.
    Siswan walked towards her future with her head held high. She would not allow the events of the last year to crush her body or her spirit. She didn’t know where she was going but anywhere had to be better than her village. It had to be better. She would make sure it was.
    The small amount of money she had made Bak give her wouldn’t last for long. She would need to earn more and she knew of only one way to make money. Men. They were the answer. They had the power. The money. They were the ones in control. Please them or starve. She’d rather starve. That was the one thing she had learned really well.
    It was almost dark by the time she made the town. The noise of the traffic, the lights, the thousands of people all hurrying to get somewhere, unnerved her. She felt lost. Alone. Small.
    Only once had she ever been there before. When she was very young her mother had brought her in on the bus. That had been different. She had held her mother’s hand and been amazed by all the sights and sounds she saw. The big cars, trucks and motorbikes all roaring their way around the streets. The tall buildings that made her neck ache as she tried to see all the way to the top. The excitement of seeing all those people coming and going had made her dizzy.
    Now though, it was different. Now she was brushing shoulders with those people, as they bustled to and fro, and the contact made her feel even more alone. So many people that she didn’t know.
    When she had walked in her village she had known everyone. Every face she saw she knew. Even on Buddha days, when the whole village gathered together to visit the temple, she knew every face. Recognised every person. Some to talk to, others just to say hello to, some to be afraid of. It didn’t matter how many people turned up, and sometimes there seemed like hundreds, she knew everyone.
    In this town there were thousands of people. Tens of thousands. She knew none of them. Not one face stood out from the crowds for her. Not one. She was alone. For the first time in her life, she was truly alone.
    Walking aimlessly down through the crowded streets she felt tired. Her legs ached from their long walk. She was hot, sticky and dirty. She wanted a shower. Something to eat. A good nights sleep in her little bed. It was that last thought that saved her.
    The thought of her little, safe and comfortable bed, saved her from giving up. Saved her from crying and being afraid. Stopped her from being the little frightened girl that she almost allowed herself to become.
    That little bed. Where she would lie and listen to her father. Hear his drunken rants. Hear the sound of her mother crying. Waiting anxiously, hoping that Bak wouldn’t come to her. No. The thought of that bed filled her with revulsion. Her mother had condemned her. There would be no more tears.
    With a shrug of resolve, she hefted her small bundle of clothes over her shoulder and, more determined than ever, continued her walk into the centre of the town. Whatever happened now, whatever happened in the future, she was going to be the one in control.
    She looked into the shop windows as she walked. So many beautiful things. Clothes. Jewellery. Ornaments. Of every size, shape and colour. The sights made her realise how shabby she must look. Her worn jeans, faded tee shirt, old sandals. Her hair was dirty and hung across her face. Her skin felt as though it were caked in dirt. She felt unclean. Inside and out.
    It was dark by the time she arrived at the park in the centre of the town. The garish street lights made the shadows look real. More alive than the objects that made them. There were still people about. Motorbikes