Jade steps towards the edge of her bed, her mind swirling with questions she can't quite answer. The knife peels the outer skin. With a small spoon, she scoops out the clear gel and puts it in a bowl. She beats it in a small bowl, creating the weak lotion. It’s a process that she hates but loves. It keeps her body so silky. A living sexual desire diminishes her perception of herself and who she truly is.

Soft fingers move the lotion into her body. Her eyes are closed as she wonders what it is like to be touched with desire and grace. Jade has never known kindness. Her need to be flawless leaves her unable to be touched, a distant desire not known to her family. She wants to be held, cradled, wanted.

In this life, she hears simple words of encouragement exclusively. She is only touched by her clothing or a rod. She has to be perfect, and there is a lash for every mistake. Despite being clothed, she endures the pain of the beatings, though there are no visible wounds. She is to be flawless, an act of perfection. Occasionally, she wishes for a spark of kindness, a word of love.

She pulls on her leather skin shoes and steps out. The afternoon sun’s kiss graces her face as she exhales a sigh. With the first performance in half a day at sunset, she spends the night awake. Her timeless beauty shields her face from the aging effects of the sun. Her life is a string of minor events, all merging into an endless routine. Despite everything, she sees in the surrounding faces that a persistent blessing fills her life.

Jade emerges, her foot sinking into the soil as she peers around the encampment. As the fire danced upon her skin, she sensed its warmth. She is at the center, with her mother, the witch across from her. Like her, her mother is also a prisoner, confined to the center of the encampment and unable to leave without an escort.

With her gaze turned right, she examines the far-off horizon. Deep down, she knows her dreams are just that, dreams. She longs for a beautiful day at the forest’s edge, where she can walk barefoot. The grass tickling the bottom of her feet is something she experiences. The warmth of someone’s love and the sunlight cause her to dance and bask. But that is just a dream. Her life is captive, demanding, and lonely. As she takes a full breath, she hears pots and food being prepared, rustling leaves, yelling in the distance, and the sound of a lash. She hears the whimpers and cries of someone who promises they will never fail henceforth.

“Jade!” Jafar calls out a single command. Jade shrinks back. Her body becomes rigid as she loses her peace.

Turning to the left, she watches as the caravan chief moves towards her. She curses under her breath, as she hates the sight of him. Fortunately, she is among the blessed untouched. She knows he won’t stop until he breaks someone, leaving them crying and begging. She feels abandoned, unless he is near, having lost what remains of their soul. Jade’s eyes flutter up to meet the gaze of a man who towers over her. She feels dwarfed by his size as he gazes down upon her.

“Have you seen her?” the demon commands.

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“Seen who?” Jade stammers.

“Your mother! Do not toy with me, girl,” he asks, his hand moving up.

“I... I just got up. I promise, I haven’t seen her.”

“She needs to end the vermin.”

“Vermin?” Jade blinks.

The man’s eyes narrow on her. A small bead of sweat moves down her back. His face leans forward, a faint glow behind his red eyes as he stares into her, growling, “I won’t allow them to be bred.”

Jade shakes her head in a deliberate motion. She hasn’t seen her mother, but persists in hoping she is gone. That she escapes, by some means. Transforms into a creature of the night and escapes the horrors of the world. The man leans closer. Holding her breath, Jade waits. The smell of alcohol drenches his clothes as he peers into the depth of her soul. His skin is a sour, disfigurement of a cruel joke, sagging flesh hanging from bones. His massive frame looms over her, his sagging, disfigured face a grotesque mask of cruelty.

A sharp inhale of air sends a shiver down Jade’s spine as he steps closer. Her body trembles. His broken teeth are visible to every movement as bloody drool drips from his lips. He seems to be practically chewing on his words as he looks down at her. Jade trembles. Experiencing an unimaginable horror as her senses overwhelm her. She feels him. She senses his desire, his passion, and hunger. As she resists his influence, she senses him savoring her thoughts.

The demon turns to her as his eyes travel down her body. Jade shivers as she sees his head move, grunting in pleasure as his pulse quickens in his veins. His mouth opens as if to say something, as his fingers reach out to touch her. To alter her just enough to be his, forever his. He doesn't speak but she can hear his need, the hunger that never leaves him as his eyes always are looking. His mind always searching, unable to break through the blessing her mother put on the outside of the door. This blessing is the only thing that protects her innocence from the monster before her.

A gasp escapes her lips, her lips tremble. Her fingers move swiftly against the locking mechanism, wishing for safety. A place of solace. Jade fumbles, trying to escape. She searched for help but understands that it’s more beneficial for others if she endures. She whispers as tears fall from her eyes, “Please...”

“Please, what little morsel?”

“No, please...”

“ENOUGH!” her mother’s voice rings through the camp.

“Ahhhh! I knew it....” the demon growls, “Torment the cub and the wolf will appear...”

“If I were to become a wolf, I would tear you limb from limb, Jafar.”

His eyes do not leave Jade’s body as he speaks to her in a low voice. “One day, you won’t have your mother here.”

Menace drips from his voice. He turns to his mother, and a spark of fire ignites in his dark red eyes. Her flesh is sticky with sweat as she escapes his presence. On the balls of her feet, she doesn’t wait to hear what is happening. She doesn’t want to. She is rushing to a place anywhere she can catch her breath. Her heartbeat is ringing in her ears as she pushing her body to run faster.

The strain in the muscles exerting such a force and tension that she can barely breathe. Pushing her body to run faster, letting the strain to tear into her. She will not be strong for the dance tonight, but she will face the repercussions then. The strain is terrifying, feeling as if something inside of her will snap. That the things Jafar would do would break her in ways she never knew possible. He had been thinking of how nimble her ankles look, how supple her calves, wondering if he tore her legs free, if she would be his, never able to escape. A fate far worse than any death, to cannot stop the onslaught of the unknown.