Chapter 5 Laynie
It was cold. It was always cold. They didn’t bother to heat the warehouse they kept us in, and I never had enough blankets or clothes to knock the chill away. Sometimes it was so cold I wished someone would buy me so I can feel warm, even if temporary. Sometimes it was even warmer outside if the sun was shining. I pushed my knees to my chest and my face under the sheet, trying to create warmth.
I couldn’t stop thinking about the man I saw last week. The one who had so gently lifted me from my misery, literally. I remember his scent the most. The smell of clean cotton and maybe whiskey. I hated myself for feeling anything other than hatred towards any of these men, but I couldn’t shake the feeling from this one. He seemed…different. I remember how his breath felt on my lips and the way his thumb slid down my face. Stop it Laynie! What is wrong with you?
I had been in this warehouse for probably 6 months and before that, was another warehouse, just the same. It’s been 1504 days since I was taken. That’s 4 years and I know I’ll never get out. I know I’ll die here. There’s been times I tried to cause enough chaos that they’d kill me, but it never worked. No one wanted to kill his “little lamb.” It only resulted in painful torture, which was worse than dying.
In the beginning, I always hoped the police would find me. That my mom was looking for me and that someone would lead them to me. Every time the door would open, I just knew someone was coming to rescue me. But after days turned to weeks and weeks to months, my hope dwindled away. Now I don’t even think about my parents anymore and I solely occupy my thoughts with Charlie. I don’t know what happened to her, if she’s dead or alive or if she’s living in hell like me. I will never forgive myself for what happened, and each day I force myself to remember. Sometimes the agony burns so deep I need to feel the physical pain. I kept a knife I came across, tucked into my mattress, and I cut the inner parts of my thigh. No one notices and if they do, they think someone else did it to me and it helps me feel in control of my pain. My pain is in the hands of others, but wielding the blade gives me control.
I heard commotion on the other end of the warehouse and peaked from under my blanket. Towards where the rest of us slept, I witnessed a young girl being forcefully pulled by her actual ear. I didn’t recognize this girl, but that meant nothing. They didn’t allow us to talk to each other and they wouldn’t let us to fraternize, as they would say. They didn’t want us teaming up against them, so I didn’t even make eye contact with most. I pulled the cover back over my head and tried to drown out her screams.
When they were done with her, I heard the muffled cries subside and I squeezed my eyes closed, trying to pretend I was anywhere else, until I felt someone snatch the covers off me and I jolted up. It was Eddie. He looked at me with disgust.
“Get the fuck up.”
I bent down to gather the few clothes I stored under the bed when the back of his elbow collided with the back of my head. My face slammed into the concrete ground. The blow was unexpected, and I didn’t have time to catch myself. My chin hit the ground first, and I bit through my tongue. Blood poured out of my mouth.
“Stop moving so fucking slow,” his voice registered in my ears as the pain from my mouth and head exploded like a bomb.
I tried to move quicker, but not quick enough because when I stood with my things gathered in my arms, he slapped me across the face. It burned my cheek and eye and I could feel the warmth of the burn escaping through my skin. “Please stop.”
“Please stop,” he mimicked, and laughed. I looked around the room at the other girls, but no one was looking. Everyone trembled under their sheets, trying not to become his next victim.
He allowed me a moment to get dressed, but he didn’t allow me to use the bathroom or clean myself. So blood soaked through my clean shirt that I just pulled over my head. I put on a pair of blue jeans with no panties, since I didn’t have any. If I was going to a buyer, I would have time to shower and get cleaned up, but Eddie didn’t allow that this time. I knew I wasn’t going to him then. Eddie would never take me to Alek looking like this, and Alek would kill him for it. I couldn’t ask, though, because asking anything would cause another blow. When I was done, he walked away, and they expected me to follow. He put me inside the transport van, taking me, hopefully, to my death.