Chapter 1: The Unknown
Chapter 1: The Unknown
Being locked in my own personal hell is something I never expected to happen. The room I’m trapped in smells like piss and vomit, my own. I haven’t been out of this closet of a room in I don’t know how long. My fingernails are worn down to stubs from my feeble attempts to escape by scratching the floorboards. Wind Chimes, I hear them clanging together. This has been happening a lot lately, telling me fall is almost here. I’m not really sure whether the noise is soothing or driving me insane. I peer through the miniscule crack in the boarded up window to see if night has swallowed the daylight whole. Dusk is approaching and another day has passed. Another day has gone by without my mom telling me she loves me, or my dad telling me to stop bullying my little sister. “Get Up!” The man with no name snaps, as he unlocks the door and grasps my hair by the roots. I cry out in pain and he smiles, purely delighted he caused me agony. “You smell vile and need a shower before I let you come down with the other girls.” The man with no name drags me into the grimy bathroom and rips off my nightgown, pushing me into the shower. The water is almost scalding. “You have five minutes to wash your hair, body, and shave,” he says, with contempt. “Please, let me go! I’m too young for this!” The man stares at me with the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen, completely unfazed by my whole-hearted pleas to go home. “What’s your name?” At least tell me your name,” I demand. “Can you tell me how long I’ve been here?” “Five days and my name is Spencer.” Giving me this information is the first act of kindness Spencer has shown me since I was taken. I get in the shower and wash and shave quickly, not wanting to disappoint him further. Although the hot water feels amazing, I get out before the allotted five minutes is up. I glance in the mirror and inhale deeply. What am I here for? Why are we in a run-down, shitty house? I make my way down the rickety stairs, and there’s a grotesquely, fat man in his late 40’s leering at me. “Her! I want the beautiful brunette with the curvy booty!” Oh my God! I think I’m going to be sick. There’s a line of girls against the living room wall, waiting to be picked by these older scumbags who obviously have money. I know why we’re here. Myself and the other girls around my age are being sold. As sex slaves….
Being locked in my own personal hell is something I never expected to happen. The room I’m trapped in smells like piss and vomit, my own. I haven’t been out of this closet of a room in I don’t know how long. My fingernails are worn down to stubs from my feeble attempts to escape by scratching the floorboards. Wind Chimes, I hear them clanging together. This has been happening a lot lately, telling me fall is almost here. I’m not really sure whether the noise is soothing or driving me insane. I peer through the miniscule crack in the boarded up window to see if night has swallowed the daylight whole. Dusk is approaching and another day has passed. Another day has gone by without my mom telling me she loves me, or my dad telling me to stop bullying my little sister. “Get Up!” The man with no name snaps, as he unlocks the door and grasps my hair by the roots. I cry out in pain and he smiles, purely delighted he caused me agony. “You smell vile and need a shower before I let you come down with the other girls.” The man with no name drags me into the grimy bathroom and rips off my nightgown, pushing me into the shower. The water is almost scalding. “You have five minutes to wash your hair, body, and shave,” he says, with contempt. “Please, let me go! I’m too young for this!” The man stares at me with the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen, completely unfazed by my whole-hearted pleas to go home. “What’s your name?” At least tell me your name,” I demand. “Can you tell me how long I’ve been here?” “Five days and my name is Spencer.” Giving me this information is the first act of kindness Spencer has shown me since I was taken. I get in the shower and wash and shave quickly, not wanting to disappoint him further. Although the hot water feels amazing, I get out before the allotted five minutes is up. I glance in the mirror and inhale deeply. What am I here for? Why are we in a run-down, shitty house? I make my way down the rickety stairs, and there’s a grotesquely, fat man in his late 40’s leering at me. “Her! I want the beautiful brunette with the curvy booty!” Oh my God! I think I’m going to be sick. There’s a line of girls against the living room wall, waiting to be picked by these older scumbags who obviously have money. I know why we’re here. Myself and the other girls around my age are being sold. As sex slaves….
