Flash Fiction: A Home

Stacy pulled into the Brandywine Motel’s parking lot at about two in the morning. Already, the police had fifteen girls lined up while half a dozen officers questioned them. The johns were nowhere to be seen. Must have taken them to the station for booking.

She had been working with the local police on behalf ofRahab’s house to try and rescue some of these girls. Fifteen tonight, though. How were they going to house fifteen more? She and the others at the house would figure it out. She would not abandon any of them tonight, or any night.

Stacy slid out of theHonda Odyssey and walked over to the girls.

They were tall, young, and ready to fight. Stacy was tiny, old, and ready to love. Love always wins. That’s what she told anyone who wondered if she could handle a van full of young women with questionable motives. There were always attempts at manipulation or even physical bullying, but love always won.

One girl stood apart from the rest, but there was something that drew Stacy to her first. Her eyes didn’t have the dead junkie look to them, or the kill before be killed fury.

“Hi sweetie.” Stacy said when she stood near her. The girl didn’t answer. “I’m mama Stacy, and you’re going home with me. What’s your name?”

“Mama Stacy, here to save the day.” The girl mocked.

“Yes, dearie. Tonight, that’s exactly why I’m here.”

The girl stared into Stacy’s eyes, and then frantically looked aroumd her. “You can’t save me. You can’t save any of us. Tom will…”

“Tom can’t touch you any more. No one can. Tonight You’re free. What’s your name, swetie?”

The girl looked into Stacy’s eyes again, and change washed over her. “Ella”

“Well Ella, It’s very nice to meet you.”

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