Creative Writing Short Stories/Prompts by Kayla Weber (snow like ashes series .TXT) 📕

to half the things Sandy says, either. She was the first one here and she got all of Jon and Patrick’s attention before Bailey showed up. They’re best friends. Bailey is the other girl that was in the hall, by the way. She’s just like Sandy,” Annabelle shrugs and closes her eyes. “Oh, when Patrick gets back you have to do a photo shoot. We have clothes for you.”

“Thanks for the heads up. By the way, you never told me. What’s your name?” Willow sits up and turns to look at Annabelle.

“My apologies. I’m Annabelle Kater. I’m seventeen and extremely dumb.” Annabelle opens her eyes and winks at Willow.

“Dumb? No you’re not.” Willow cocks her head to the side.

“I know, but everyone else thinks so. It works to my advantage because I can learn a lot about stuff and everyone thinks I don’t pay attention.” Annabelle smiles.

“That’s awesome. Can we be friends?” Willow smiles shyly.

“Of course! You’re going to need at least one friend here.” Annabelle sits up and hugs Willow. They hear a door shut and they break apart. “Patrick is back with the other girls. Let’s go say hi.” She jumps up, pulling Willow with her.

“How many other girls are here?” Willow asks, stumbling to keep up.

“Five, including me.” They stop in front of the entryway, standing with Sandy and Bailey.

“Is that one Bailey?” Willow whispers, pointing to the girl with short, curly blonde hair. “She’s kind of short.” They both laugh.

“She’s about five feet four inches. I like her style though. The long, dark shirts really go with the colorful flower leggings she wears.” Willow nods. “Who are the other girls?”

“The other two are Elizabeth Winks and Natalie Brown. Everyone calls Elizabeth Lizzy though. She’s the one with long, blonde hair. Natalie is the one with the short, midnight black hair. Patrick is obviously the guy with the brown hair and glasses.” Annabelle points each one out and waves when they turn around.

“Newcomer! How’s it going, shortstack?” The girl called Natalie ruffles Willow’s hair.

“Hi. I’m not that short. Five feet five, thank you,” Willow glares and flattens her hair. I don’t like her already, she thinks, shooting a glance to Annabelle.

“Natalie, be nice. You know I told you to welcome all of the new girls with a cheery smile,” Patrick scolds Natalie. “I’m so sorry. I’m Patrick Herson. Who are you dear?”

“I’m Willow Jones. Jon said that I could be in the business. Is it modeling?” Willow responds.

“Well, nice to meet you Willow Jones. You certainly can be in our,” Patrick pauses and glances at Jon, “modeling business. Let’s go have a photo shoot right now! Maybe someone will bite and we can get you set up tomorrow!” Jon and Patrick escort all of the girls to a room off to the side of the living room. There are pictures of the other girls on every wall. “Tonight after we finish, your picture will get to be here, too,” Patrick whispers in Willow’s ear. He pulls her to the closet and motions for Bailey to come too. “Pick her out something beautiful, Bailey.”

“Let’s go with these dresses,” Bailey yells, emerging from the closet after five minutes of rummaging. “They will go great with your baby blue eyes and wavy blonde hair.” She thrusts the clothes at Willow and ushers her into the bathroom attached to the room to change. Willow emerges a few minutes later wearing a floor-length, tight-fitting, sparkly gold dress. Everyone gasps and Jon smiles. Sandy grabs a pearl necklace and puts in on Willow’s neck. They take a few pictures and then rotate dresses. This goes on for almost the whole night. Once they finish, everyone heads to their separate rooms for bed.

“Hey, thanks for being my first friend,” Willow whispers as she and Annabelle head to their rooms.

“You’re welcome. Now, get some sleep and I’ll see you in the morning at 5:00,” Annabelle replies through a yawn. She smiles and turns into her room, which is opposite of Willow’s.

“Rise and shine, sleepy!” Annabelle yells in Willow’s ear. Willow mumbles and slowly opens her eyes, letting them adjust to the light. “We’ve got to get you showered and dressed for the day. Come with me.” Willow sits up and looks over at Annabelle, who is showered and fully dressed in a light pink mini skirt and a black tank top. She pulls Willow to the bathroom, handing her a towel and some hygiene products. “You have half an hour before breakfast.” Annabelle leaves and closes the door, leaving Willow alone to shower. She starts the water and climbs in. About 20 minutes later, Willow is out and toweling off when Sandy bursts into the room without knocking.

“I have clothes picked out for you. I went shopping yesterday when Jon said that we had a new girl. I hope they fit. I hung the rest up in your closet, if you don’t like the outfit I picked for you.” Sandy paused, “also, don’t run today. You’ll only get yourself in trouble if you try.” With that, she tosses Willow a small smile and leaves. Willow nervously finishes drying off and goes to her room. She puts on the outfit Sandy had picked out, not wanting to be rude even though it was nothing she would have ever picked for herself. She glances at herself in the mirror. She gasps because the girl wearing the black crop-top and red, high-low skirt is not the same girl that wore sweatshirt and sweatpants that got into a fight with her parents over wanting to be a singer instead of a farmer. She heads to the kitchen for breakfast. After eating, Jon and Patrick round all of the girls up and squeeze them into a black SUV. Jon gets in the driver’s seat and Patrick climbs in the passenger seat, looking back at the girls.

“Remember, we pick you up after half an hour. If you want to stay later, and they are okay with it, as long as they pay and you are good, you can stay. Willow, as for you, you can’t stay longer than half an hour today because it’s your first day. I had some people call last night about you. We’re dropping you off first. We’ll be back in half an hour.” They pull into the driveway of a trailer court, the houses all painted an off-white with siding that is falling off.

“I thought this was supposed to be modeling. Why would any agent live here?” Willow whispers to Annabelle, who is sitting beside her.

“It’s not modeling. It’s sex trafficking,” Annabelle whispers back.

“Why didn’t you warn me?!” Willow exclaims quietly. Jon and Patrick are ushering her out of the SUV before Annabelle has a chance to reply. They shut the door and walk up to the house. A guy answers, wearing a stained white shirt and boxers. He hands over the cash and they hand over Willow. Jon and Patrick walk back to the SUV.

“Half an hour, no later or you pay more!” Patrick yells out the window. They drive away and the guy pulls Willow into the house, her struggling to break free the whole way. Half an hour later Jon is back to pick her up. All of the other girls have been dropped off. When he opens the door to the house, Willow shoves both guys and takes off running. Jon bounces back and sprints after Willow, catching her in a few strides. He grabs her by the hair, yanking her back to the SUV. He throws her in and slams the door, stomping around to the driver’s seat. He floors it out of the trailer park and all the way home.

“That was a stupid move, girlie. Now you’re going to be in serious trouble,” Jon growls once they get to the house. He throws her out of the SUV and shoves her into the house. Once inside, he whirls her around and smacks her. “Don’t you ever run again, you hear? Next time it will be worse!” He continues to beat her until she can’t move. He drags her to her room and kicks her onto her bed. She lays there crying silently. “I have to go pick up the other girls. If you aren’t here when I get back, I’ll hurt your family next.” Jon storms out of the house to get the other girls. Willow stays like that for the rest of the night, not daring to move an inch. Annabelle comes in to visit, bringing her supper.

“Thought you might be hungry,” she sets a tray of food on the bed, “I should have warned you not to run, but you didn’t seem like the type that would.” Annabelle sits on the bed next to Willow and helps her take a drink.

“Sandy warned me, but I didn’t listen,” Willow wheezes. Annabelle tries feeding her a bite, but Willow pushes it away and groans. “Not hungry. I just want to sleep now. Will you stay with me?” Annabelle nods and puts the tray on the floor. She gently climbs into the bed next to Willow, trying not to jostle her and make her hurt more. They both fall asleep within minutes. Sandy walks into the room, takes the tray and covers them up. She gives Willow a motherly kiss on the forehead.

“I tried to tell you,” she whispers, “but you didn’t want to listen. I guess I can’t blame you. I did the same thing. It’s only going to get worse.” She smiles and slowly tiptoes out of the room, shutting the light off and closing the door. Days pass and Willow slowly heals from the beating. Once she is fully healed, Jon makes the decision at breakfast that she is going back to work. She showers and gets dressed in a white tank top and flower-print shorts with a cardigan and sandals. They head out and she gets dropped off at a nicer, brick house with a cherry wood front porch and a welcome mat in front of the door.

“Remember, run and it’s worse,” Jon whispers as they walk to the door. Willow nods and promises that she won’t ever run again. Jon knocks on the door and a guy wearing a nice suit and tie answers. “Half an hour. I’ll be back.” Jon gets back in the SUV and Willow walks into the house.

“Want something to drink?” the guy asks. Willow shakes her head and sits on the fluffy off-white couch. She leans forward to play with the flowers sitting on the glass coffee table in the middle of the square. There is one more couch and two chairs, all matching the couch she is sitting on. There is a TV hanging on the wall broadcasting a basketball game. “So, what’s your story? How did you wind up doing this?” they guy inquires, walking back into the room, sitting beside her.

“I’m not here for you to ask questions. I’m here because you paid them for sex with me,” Willow crosses her arms defiantly. The guy laughs and shakes his head.

“Oh, you have me mistaken,” he replies, still laughing.

“Really? Then what am I doing here?”

“I’m a cop,” he flashes her a badge with a photo ID that says his name is Miles Rosoffe, “I work to get people out of sex trafficking. Just started working this case.”

“Wonderful,” Willow replies sarcastically, “you look like you’re 20. How could you possibly be a cop?”

“Easy. I went to college for two years after graduating, and then completed the academy. Good guess, by the way. I am 20, but I will be turning 21 in a few months. What’s your name? How old are you?” He leans back and causally crosses his legs.

“I’m Willow Jones, sixteen,” she replies leaning back as well.

“So how did you wind up here, doing this?” he pries.

“I got into a fight with my parents. I want to be a country singer, but they want me to be a farmer. I ran away and a guy picked me up