Mila

  The neighbor's rooster started it's morning routine. Mila opened her eyes and yawned. She had no clock on her bedside table but with experience, her ears picked up the early noise from the market.

It was close to sunrise.

She tossed and turned savoring the remaining chill of the night. Come midday her room would be a real-life oven.

The sound of pans rattling and the growing smell of salted fish finally pulled her up. Through the crack of her Aunt's floorboards, Mila could tell she was making breakfast. But the closed door meant she was not invited.

Just like yesterday and the day before that.

Mila knew that whatever food landed on her Aunt's shack was barely enough for them. She understood her Aunt's needs, she was the one working for them and was usually sick.

She dragged herself up and found a jug of not-so-dirty water. She washed her face and gargled to cleanse her breath. Her fingers combed and arranged the thin patch of hair on her head. It was pure luck she had not been plagued with lice.

Feeling much awake, she flipped the hand-sewn curtain made of potato sack. The shack was made with whatever material they could get their hands on. She prayed the weather remained warm least they all spend the day unprotected. The neighbors' houses were in a similar state: a patch of plastic or wood, steel—if they're lucky.

Mila stepped into the morning crowd.

Another day was starting in the slums.
***

Broken Avenue was known for it's residents: vendors, drunken men, naked children, greased covered animals and red-eyed prostitutes.

People come and go to pick up women there. Sometimes, luxury cars could be seen around eyeing prospects. As soon as they spot anyone who's hungry for money, they'd negotiate, pay, get what they came for and drive off fast, fearing thieves would come and steal their wheels.

Mila had a friend who made money by selling her body, she'd never been baptized nor had any legal records of her birth so people just called her Lia.

Lia was seventeen just like her. But her mother had been selling the girl ever since she was ten. Lia's mother claimed she never forced her child to do any of these but Mila knew better. Lia was fair-skinned and somewhat pretty. She attracted generous clients.

People knew it was the easiest way to make money. Mila had been tempted to try had it not been for her Aunt's pleas. She swore to Mila's mother that she would care for the girl and she planned to keep her promise. Sadly, she had failed terribly. The girl may have had a roof over her head but she was just as orphaned as the other children around her.

Mila's Aunt tried her best in the beginning. Doing various jobs for other people and keeping her out of the streets. Her husband worked at a lumber shop but was a known drunk who spent his earnings drinking.

Soon, they all just tried to fend for themselves.
***

At the end of the market Mila spotted Ben. He was a blonde, freckled faced, blue-eyed boy. She estimated he might be around sixteen or so but could pass for someone older. He was tall with a well-sculpted chin that made him look mature.

Somewhere in her tiny heart, Mila suspected he was in love with her. He'd treat her with anything he could spare, fruit, candy or sometimes crackers. But they've been intimate to a point "friends" wasn't an appropriate label for them anymore.

Ben saw her soon after. He raised his hand and gestured for her come over.
***

They walked side by side while sharing a loaf of stolen bread. It was still warm and crispy.

Ben had the pair of hands that were as light as a feather. He could steal fruits from vendors while maintaining a jolly conversation with them. He was never caught. Because Ben had always been pleasant that people never thought he'd commit petty crimes.

He was pretty thin though. Everyone saw a weak boy who could barely lift a fork without breathing hard. But he tried manual labor before only for awhile until they decided he wasn't fit enough. So he tried washing dishes, running errands and many more. Nothing lasted long.

Luckily, Ben discovered that he could sing. And not just regular singing—he was good. They decided that he could make a profit out of it. Everyday he would scour the area for possible money magnet sites. Ben would sing at tourists and Mila would go around with a hat. The small earnings they got kept them out of the streets at night.

Today, Ben positioned himself outside the church. It was a bright Sunday and people were swarming all over. Mila sat by the railing and finished her half rotten apple. Her eyes blinked against the sunlight. She could feel they'd earn a good buck today.

After the mass has ended people would stop by to buy flowers, trinkets or snacks. Ben rolled his sleeves and started vocalizing. Mila was already holding the hat. After striking a candid pose, Ben winked at her and started singing.

Watching Ben was a luxury for her. She got to see people admire his talent and give him money. But it was not her main reason for tagging along. She was waiting to see someone else.

And she saw him walk just about now.

A striking nineteen year old Lucio came into view. He was a laborer. He could carry heavy crates for deliveries, pushed carts across fast moving trucks and sometimes, he could maul wild pigs that got out of their pens.

Today is a regular for Lucio. He'd drop off flowers right next to where she and Ben hang out. They all knew each other from the block. So after hauling all orders, Lucio nodded at them and left.

Mila watched him leave and remembered the days when Lucio was still a school-oriented boy. He supported his mother and sisters as a working student. But his employers moved away and the closest and cheapest school closed down.

Lucio wanted to continue his studies but couldn't leave his sisters. His mother was an off and on heroin addict. Though most days she was sober, he couldn't depend on her doting upon his sisters. One time she got so high she ran amok the market for no apparent reason. Fearing for his sisters welfare, Lucio found work close to home.

Mila had been admiring him since. His love for his sisters was so heart touching. Not to mention he was the prettiest guy she'd ever seen. With all those muscles straining against his tight shirt, a perfect tan and dark brown eyes—a girl could only dream on.

Ahh, her beautiful Lucio.

If only he would notice her. Look at her from a different point of view. Run his eyes all over her body like a lion preying on a deer.

Mila let out a sigh. She wasn't pretty but she wasn't ugly either. Her skin wasn't too pale or dark, her eyes weren't that small or bulging. She was frail due to malnourishment and she had no miracle from puberty yet. One look at her and people only saw how plain she was. Just like the rest.

The sun rose higher and the dark areas at Broken Avenue lit up. The shadows that lurked moved to the farthest corners away from the prying eyes.