Hope

Camden

Camden walked through the streets, calming his head. His fights had not gone as well as they usually did. Let the opponent hit him a time or two, then beat his lights out with a fancy kick or so. The crowds loved it, and he made more coin for it. But this time…

A tiny girl, practically a child, had stood in front of him. It could have been her first fight. She weighed less than a hundred pounds and reminded him of a toothpick. Her blonde hair was in a ponytail signaling that she had not quite figured out that it was smarter to cut it, or tie it in a bun so nobody could yank on it. She bounced around on her toes, her eyes as wide as saucers when he jumped into the Pitts, spectators screaming and cheering. They all expected him to crush her.

The ringmaster signaled the beginning of the match. They circled a few times, before she jumped forwards. She hit the ground in front of Camden, and instead of attacking outright, she rolled, kicking him in the shin as hard as she could. He jumped back more in surprise than pain. She leapt to her feet in an instant. How could he fight her? He would break her with one hit. His hand could make a fist around her bicep. She barely went past his waist.

He looked over to his pitt master, who waved to him sarcastically before lighting a cigar. Of course. Nobody could beat him in the Pitts. Except perhaps Gisa, but they never faced each other. It was an unspoken agreement of sorts between the pitt masters and them. Or it had been. No, they were trying to find a different sort of challenge for him now.

The girl threw herself at him again, leaping into the air, kicking him straight in the chest. He stumbled back a step, his thoughts having distracted him. She landed too close. Camden grabbed her arm, flinging her onto the ground. She rolled, the sand scratching her arms. She was a kid. Why were kids fighting in the Pitts now? She should be in the newly finished children's homes by now, not rolling around in the sand, fighting someone nearly three times her size.

She jumped back up again, dusting the sand off of her. Camden jumped towards her, sweeping his leg behind her knees, grabbing her arm and landing her on her back. He saw her eyes widen in fear as the air was knocked out of her lungs. She struggled to take a breath in, her arms still protecting herself. Camden shook his head. He could tell she wasn't going to tap out.

She put her hands behind herself, struggling to get up, her chest heaving. He grabbed her leg, pulling her off the ground, upside down. She let out a squeak in surprise. The crowds roared with laughter. Then, he closed his eyes for a half second. Just do it, just do it, just do it. End it. He willed himself. He spun in a circle halfway, throwing her to the other side of the pit where she slid before her back slammed against the barrier. The crowd cheered as he stalked slowly towards her. She whimpered, pulling herself up. He could tell there was already some bruising by the way she stood.

Never show a sign of weakness in the Pitts. Even if you were guaranteed to lose. She held her ground as he advanced. This time, he threw a punch. She ducked low, moving towards him. He sent up a knee, but she twisted around, slamming her knife hand into his exposed other side. He sent his hand down and pulled her ponytail. She fell on her butt. An idea came into his head. He lifted her clean off the ground, one arm around her waist, pinning her arms to her side. Then, with his other arm, he pinched the back of her neck until she stopped struggling, and her body went limp. He dropped the unconscious child to the ground, the crowds cheering somewhat. He turned back towards her form, crumpled in a heap and shook his head. Just a kid…

He turned to see the pitt master smiling at him wickedly. He turned away, his eyes scanning grimmly across the cheering crowd. Money clinked from hand to hand as bets were cashed out. Some people shouted and debated over the time it took him to take her out. His guts twisted. Sick. People were sick. If this wasn't his best way to pay the bills he had, he would stay far away from this bloody establishment. The ringmaster held his hand in the air. Victor. And as the ringmaster began to prepare for the next match...

No medics had come to her rescue from where she was huddled on the floor, so he scooped her up with a gentleness that never bothered to make an appearance in this establishment, and hopped over the concrete pit wall.

"Where you going with her?" The ringmaster shouted as a few kids came over to throw some more sand on the floor.

"Infirmary. You have another fight in a few minutes," he yelled back over the din, sighing in relief when he didn't ask any more questions, returning to his work.

Nobody paid any attention to the tall man wandering through the crowded place with an unconscious child in his arms. Not once did anyone give him a funny look or stop him. He didn't know if that was any worse than letting a child fight a grown man. He knew that many abductions happened similar to the way he was carrying her to the infirmary. If nobody stopped you, then you could get away with almost anything.

When he stooped low to enter the med wing, he was greeted by the familiar hustle and bustle, the stinging scent of alcohol, their only antiseptic, stuffing itself up his nose. "Anyone got a free cot?" he asked nobody in particular.

A young blonde whipped around before her hands flew to her mouth. Her eyes glittered as she ran over to Camden, wiping her hands on her apron. "Jenny!" She looked up to him, "Sir where did you find her? Come set her down here."

"Fighting pits." he said, laying her down where he was directed. She still hadn't so much as stirred. She looked worse than she was. He had ensured that. He wanted to cringe.

The young woman shook her head almost angrily before turning back to Camden, "Go wash your hands, I may need your help. I'll grab my bag."

It was then that Camden noticed she was one of only three nurses in the whole ward. There were a few other people that looked like family and friends trying to help, but otherwise… so he did as he was told, seeing her need for help. The woman knew the kids name… He let the lukewarm water from the faucet flow over his hands, rubbing the gray bar of soap to create a lather. He thought back to the girl's cornflower blue eyes… the same eyes and the same hair as the nurse… the same thin bone structure, even the way they moved was similar. Definitely related. Sisters maybe?

He came back over. The nurse was already there, examining the cuts on her arms and legs. "Minor abrasions, she mumbled, using a cloth to dust the sand from them. Without looking up, "Flip her on her stomach so I can take a look at her back.

Camden obliged, sliding his arms under her. He began to lift her when she commanded him to stop. "Stop, stop!" She ran her fingers along the girl's rib cage. "This isn't right… I think this might be a break…" Camden did everything he could not to hiss through his teeth. Broken ribs… those hurt.

Jenny stirred. "No, don't wake up…" the nurse whispered. She and Camden turned the girl over after the nurse had set some weird structure up to keep the pressure off of her ribs. The nurse unbuttoned the girl's gray shirt, exposing the bruises and the cuts along her abdomen.

When she had settled into a steady rhythm, cleaning the cuts with a bottle of something Camden couldn't identify, he ventured a question. "What should I call you?"

"Lillian."

"Well then Lillian, not to pry, but are you related to Jenny? You two could be sisters…" when she didn't respond, "Are you?"

Lillian's eyes went faroff for a moment. "I'm her mother."

Camden didn't react, but the shock was there nonetheless. Mother? Lillian could scarcely be twenty-five! And the girl… she looked about twelve.

"I can see you doing the math in your head." she said sarcastically, wrapping a piece of gauze around Jenny's elbow, "It's quicker to ask."

"How old were you?" Camden wasn't sure he wanted the answer.

"I was thirteen when I had her. She's eleven now. Twelve soon enough." Lillian motioned for him to flip her onto her back again.

He hesitated… "And her father?"

"I loved him. He and I were very close. We didn't mean to have Jenny. Next thing I know, my father finds out I am pregnant, and Jenny's father is found dead in the river." Lillian said. She had stopped working, sitting by her daughter, stroking Jenny's hand.

Camden nodded. Watching the woman tenderly sitting beside her child. "Did he kill himself?"

"Heavens no! He was so excited when he found out. It was… it was my father who admitted to the murder. I also thought he was to blame for that of my mother's murder. He said someone else did that." a humourless chuckle. "Mother had been sleeping with another man for quite some time anyway. He wasn't sorry to see her go.`` She didn't say anything for a while, then looked at him, "I don't want Jenny to grow up in this world of madness."

He sighed, his heart heavy as he looked at the ruin he had wrecked on this child, and on her mother. The woman had snapped. He could see the red rimmed eyes, the sleepless nights were wearing on her. He could tell she was joining the hopeless folks that grew in number by the day. But it wasn't for herself, it was for her child who... "There is a place where she can be safe, Lillian." The childrens' home. And when the hope lit up in her eyes, he knew he was right.