Eleven Young Again
The worn rag moves slowly across the cracked windowsill, smearing layers of dust and sweat into a dull haze. I work alone, the silence of the room thick and heavy. I don’t speak to the other girls. It’s safer that way. Quiet is what keeps you alive here.
A soft knock at the door makes me freeze, rag in hand.
The door opens, and a small girl steps inside, wrapped in a thin, too-big coat. Her eyes are wide—too wide—and red-rimmed like she’s been crying. She looks lost, scared, like I must have looked once.
Ms. Reena stands behind her, her gaze sharp as she looks to me. “Lily,” she says quietly, “settle her in. Show her around.”
I nod, “Yes, ma’am,” but something inside tightens. I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to get close.
Ms. Reena turns and leaves us alone.
The girl looks up at me, voice small and trembling. “Who… who are you? Where… where are we?”
I lower the rag and meet her eyes. My voice is barely above a whisper. “I’m Lily.”
She blinks, hopeful. “Can you… can you tell me more?”
I shake my head, keeping my voice soft but firm. “No. We have to be quiet here. Always quiet.”
A tear slips down her cheek, and she sniffles softly. “I just want to go home.”
Her words hit me like a punch. That’s how I must have been—so scared I could barely breathe.
“My mom…” the girl whispers, voice cracking, “I just want to see my mom.”
I hold my breath, then reach out slowly. Gently, almost hesitantly, I wrap my arms around her small frame, careful not to frighten her more.
“Shh,” I say softly, pressing my cheek to the top of her head. “We have to be quiet.”
Her crying slows, and I feel the fragile weight of her trembling against me.
“Everything will be okay,” I murmur, but the words taste hollow, like a lie I’ve told myself too many times.
Because I don’t believe it.
Not for her.
Not for me.
°°°°°
2 years later.
The kitchen was quiet except for the soft scrape of our hands against plates and the low hiss of steam rising from pots.
I moved slowly, carefully, like I always did.
Alex was beside me—eleven now, but she moved with the ease of someone who’d never known another way.
Her eyes were empty of the outside world, swallowed whole by this place, just like me.
I watched her as we worked—small, delicate, ghostlike—because I knew how fragile she really was. How much she didn’t understand, and how much she was already broken.
When we finished, we carried the food upstairs. The men were already there, filling the big dining room with their voices, loud and cruel, the way they always were.
Alex stepped forward, leaning over the long table to set down a bowl of salad.
Then it happened—one of them, a big man in a suit too tight on his broad frame, grabbed her hips and yanked her down into his lap.
I felt my heart stop.
The men laughed—harsh, ugly sounds that filled the room like poison.
Alex’s eyes started to water. She whispered, “Please… let me go.” Her voice was so small, trembling with fear and desperation.
The laughter only grew louder. Like she was a joke, like this was a game.
I wanted to scream. To tear him apart. To make the world burn for letting this happen.
But I stayed still. Silent. Because here, silence was the only shield we had.
I looked at her—my little sister in this hell, though not by blood. And my chest twisted with a cold, aching fury I didn’t know I could carry.
I wanted to tell her she’d be safe. That it would be okay.
But I didn’t believe it.
Not for her.
Not for me.
Not for anyone.
°°°°°
Author here...
Just to let you know these small chapters are little flashbacks, or memories so to say
To kind of show the life of lily.
Also Alex is the new girl that was brought.. we will see more of her later