On third day Elizabeth met the prostitute.
Elizabeth was mopping the floor like usual. She was rather slow that day. Blisters were already forming on her hands and it hurt just to move them. As she mopped past a cabin door, she heard a muffled feminine giggle from inside the room. Elizabeth perked up at the sound. Who was that? Wasn’t she the only female on this ship? Unless it was the prostitute. She paused in front of the door.
Just then, the door slammed open and a girl stumbled out giggling, very obviously drunk.
“Come catch me!” She laughed, stumbling away. For a moment, she met Elizabeth’s eyes. All drunkenness was washed out of her eyes as she flashed Elizabeth a hostile glare. A man ran out, just as drunk.
“Angeelllllla.” He slurred. The girl quickly looked down and stumbled off. The man tried to chase after her, but tripped instead and fell on top of Elizabeth. Elizabeth slapped him off with a yelp.
“Get off of me!” She shouted. The man stumbled backwards, the smile wiped off his face. He shoved her roughly away.
“Get mopping, mop girl.” He spat and walked off.
Elizabeth almost sighed in relief. As long as she didn’t become one.