.Silent.Night.

Aelya strolled down the hall way in a trancelike state. No one paid any mind to the wandering girl. It was almost as if this was a normal occurrence in these halls.
She stopped before an elderly man, and dipped gently in respect. He let out a faint smile and nodded his head just as gently, like if he had done it any less gentle, his fragile face would shatter right in front of her. His eyes, watery and droopy, let out more emotion than Aelya could withstand. Her heart leapt out, as the old man attempted to formulate words from the sagging jowls of a mouth he had. She didn't give him the chance.
She whipped around sharply, and wiped all emotion from her pallid face.
Aelya continued to walk confidently, in a perfectly straight line to her awaiting destiny.
One of the shoddy lights above head flickered reluctantly as she passed beneath it.
Yet she paid it no mind.
More important things were at steak here than a faulty light.
She continued on her way, despite the dingy carpet and peeling wallpaper, down the seemingly endless hallway.
She was almost there.
She could feel it.

She could feel him.

He was waiting for her. She shook all emotions, fear, sadness, reluctance, back into her mind, and continued.
She was closer now.
The thin walls on the building shook, as if they, too, were weeping for the girl.
She stopped in front the rustic looking door. The numbers etched in her mind.

437.

She slowly raised her hand to knock on the door, but she needed not.
The door practically swung off its hinges, and there stood a man, no more than 5'10, anxiously awaiting her arrival.
He backed into the darkened room, allowing her entry. She looked up into his dark, bloodshot eyes, deep, ebony-violet circles surrounding them.
He rubbed his stubbly chin and followed her in.
She looked around his impossibly tiny apartment, which reeked of cheap booze and sex.
She dismissed it, and sat down on the bed, placing her purse to one side.
The man grunted and closed the door behind him. He trudged over to Aelya, where the two discussed the payment for the nights deed.

* * *

Aelya, a master of detaching herself, as the man proceeded with his part of the deal, stared out at nothingness, not really there.
Once he had finished his business, she collected her payment, and left without so much as a word.
She wiped her face with the back of her hand, and drew her clothing tightly around her small frame.
This was life. This was her life.
Survival of the fittest. There was no room for meaningless emotions such as sorrow and self pity. Not in this world, not in this time.
She marched out of the virtually abandoned building into the night.
She counted the money once more before slipping it into her purse.
This was life.