Prologue One #2
The first group of men are led into the room.
They immediately walk up on the stage and begin to circle each one of us.
One man reaches out and runs his hand up and down the side of my body.
I want to cringe and pull away from his rough fingers, but I can’t.
My body is locked in place and no matter how many times I internally command myself to move, I don’t.
It’s as if I’ve been taken over by someone else and they’re in full control of me.
“Yeah, I think I’ll definitely be bidding on you tonight. You’d make a really good pet,” he sneers, his voice making me shiver in disgust and fear.
Words and a scream get locked in my throat and I know I won’t last long if I end up going home with this monster.
His eyes are completely empty as if he doesn’t have a soul.
I’ve read in a book that the eyes are the windows to a person’s soul and I’ve always believed in that.
That’s why this guy scares me so much. I’ve only ever seen a person with empty eyes once before in my life.
My uncle never had any emotion or anything in his eyes when he looked at or was beating on me.
When he was yelling, there still wasn’t any emotion and he’s the biggest monster I ever faced until today.
The group that was just circling me moves on to the next girl and repeats the process all over again.
A second group of men are led in the room and this time my attention is captured from the very second the man in the lead steps on the stage.
He’s taller than I am with a lean build.
His light brown hair has streaks of blond in it.
The group are all dressed in suits and carry themselves with absolute confidence as they seem to make a beeline for me.
When the lead guy steps up in front of me, I can’t take my eyes off of him.
Despite hearing footsteps approaching from behind me.
I stare into hazel eyes that look almost blue in the bright lights above us.
That’s when the guy makes his move and places a finger under my chin as if he’s holding my head up so I’m not staring at the floor at our feet.
“We’ll do our best to get you out of here,” he says, his voice is smooth as the whiskey my uncle drank daily as it washes over me and I shiver with feelings I’ve never experienced before in my life.
Every single day with my aunt and uncle was the same.
I’d wake up before the sun and start the outside chores.
Those had to be completed before I made my way inside to make breakfast and pack my uncle’s lunch for work.
The second they were done eating whatever large meal I prepared for them, my uncle would leave for his job while my aunt spent the day with whoever she chose.
Neither one of them stayed home for very long which worked out well for me most days.
After cleaning the kitchen from cooking and washing their dishes by hand despite them having a dishwasher, I’d move through each room of the house cleaning and ensuring there wasn’t a speck of dirt left behind.
The only room I was never allowed in was their bedroom.
They left their laundry out in the hallway for me to do and then I’d leave it in the basket directly outside their door when it was done each day.
The only time I ever had to myself was if I managed to get all of the chores done before I had to start cooking dinner for them.
Those were the times I spent outside if it was nice out.
I stayed in the barn all year round regardless of how hot or cold it was.
There was no heat and the only window was painted shut.
I never got any relief from the elements and no one cared.
Anyway, I found an old digital camera in the barn buried in a trunk of things that belonged to my mom.
Without deleting the few pictures of her and my dad from the memory card, I used that camera every single day.
It didn’t matter what I was taking pictures of, I simply fell in love with it from the second the camera was in my hands.
The only other escape I had was reading books my mom had in the same trunk.
Thankfully I didn’t find those until I was a little older because some of those chapters are a little descriptive and filled my head with images I didn’t understand.
Now, I don’t have either one of those escapes.
Well, I’ll have my camera once the small bag of my things is returned to me.
Something I overheard the guards talking about a day or two ago.
I don’t let hope fill me from his words like I know most of the other girls will.
There’s no point when this is an auction and there’s no guarantee other than the fact that someone will be taking me home with them.
I’ll simply be moving from one cage to the next one.
How I’m treated all depends on the monster who buys me.
My freedom was stripped years ago and I have no clue what I’d even do if I were allowed to make decisions for myself.
Or leave whatever building that becomes my cage.
Or a prison cell as I sometimes think of it.
As the group of men leave my side and move on to the next girl, I can’t tear my eyes from the man who touched me.
It’s the first time I’ve been touched since I was almost four years old and lost my parents.
Other than when I’m being abused, I haven’t felt a kind touch from anyone I’ve come across.
At this point, I can’t even tell you how long it’s been because I’ve lost track of how old I am.
Without the celebration of birthdays, there was no reason for me to keep track of something so completely unimportant when I was barely managing to get through each day.
It’s truly hard to survive when you’re not allowed any food or water.
I was given one meal a week and it was the scraps my aunt and uncle tossed me as if an afterthought so I didn’t die in their care.
While watching the one man, I find his eyes straying toward me every few seconds.
I don’t understand why he’d be looking at me for any reason.
Confusion fills me as the next group approaches and I’m once again touched by monsters and hear words that make my skin crawl about what will be done to me.
For the first time in longer than I can remember, tears threaten to fill my eyes but I force them back because that’s a weakness no one will ever get from me again.
I watch as the group of men move to the far wall and circle together as they begin talking in hushed whispers.
They gesture with their hands as if they’re making signals to one another and it almost reminds me of an old military show I once caught a few minutes of when I was cleaning inside and my uncle was home.
Still, hope doesn’t fill me as I try to force every thought and feeling to the stuffed box in my mind of all the trauma I’ve suffered most of my life.
Finally, I manage to pull my eyes away from the man as the leader walks closer to me and I realize he’s got a taser in his hand.
I don’t want to feel the bite of that again.
Today is going to be the day that determines how much longer I live and how beaten I’ll be the day I take my last breath.