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Hostage

 

Cut broken enemies off, into your pit of non-valuable losses.
Could have stayed and dreamt for days,
But the sight must be far worse than the taste.
And I'm waiting for something to get through to you.
And I'm waiting to burn compassion into you.

 

Nostalgia.

 

For some, it brings back sweet memories, painted smoothly in the canvas of their minds. They smile faintly as they let their mind relax, and think about what they portray as the ‘good’ times. But for me, it’s gloomily different. I thought back on my life, as I sat on the scratchy, filthy floor, I couldn’t smile faintly, or let my mind relax. The memories were like a windfire, in the beginning stages of destroying everything I worked so hard for. I showed no emotion on my face, and I felt like the only sensation I could feel was dreadful sorrow. I was numb to any other mellow feelings. I tried not to feel sorry for myself, to cry and wish the most horrible death on my mother, but doing this didn’t change the fact that I was being thrown around the whole country until  they  found some one who might want to purchase me.

 

 Purchase  me as if I was an inanimate item, with no feelings, no family, no life. But in that moment, I might as well been. I was never going back to my home in Virginia, and probably for the rest of my life, I would be some one’s slave. I would no longer be my own person. I would be forced to do whatever they said, or my life was snatched from me. I subconsciously stopped breathing as one of the men walked by. When ever they spoke in English, I would gather up parts of their conversation to make a puzzle, and I figured out that they were drug lords, and they did this frequently. As I looked around at the other women, sadistic frowns on their faces, I knew this was true.

 

“Take her, please!” My mother begged, when the German drug lords gave her an option, ‘Die, or give her to us.” Three words from my mother changed my life for ever, and she made a decision she would never be able to take back. She made a decision I would never forgive her for. One vigorously grabbed me, as the other threw a bag of a white substance at my mother, and give her a look of disgust. I screamed out for my mother’s assistance. I begged her. I tried to strike a nerve in her lifeless heart, that expired years ago, along with my father. They laughed as I begged, blocking the sounds of my cries. She just stared, with tears strolling down her eyes as they took me away.

 

I wondered what she was doing at this very moment. Maybe sniffing up her beloved crack, then crying over it. She always knew how to make herself a victim. She always knew how to hurt me. Inside, I was crying desperately, trying to conjure up escape plans, but I knew I wouldn’t be going anywhere anytime soon, unless I was successfully sold. I would be a hostage for the rest of my life, and nothing else… “Stand straight.” His voice was raspy, deep, and penetrating. Whenever I was able to sleep, his voice was the craze that haunted my dreams. I obeyed him, standing straight as the men looked at us, seeing who was the best choice. I bit my bottom lip, trying hard to hold in my sobs.

 

I’d rather be any where else in the world in that moment. Anywhere.

 

I didn’t dare to look anywhere but ahead. I knew that with these type of men, it was very easy to trigger their anger. In my peripheral vision, I seen a man approaching me. I held my breath for moments, scared of what I would smell. It wasn’t like I smelled any better. His hard face, was wrinkled with age. I could tell that his wild blonde hair was starting to whiten with age. He was overweight, and overall very unattractive, but he seemed to take an interest in me. One of the German man who owned me, stood over me, with an evil grimace. “Seven, look at him.” he demanded calmly. My eyes involuntarily shot up at the man, and I was able to see more of his unappealing features.

 

SEVEN would be my name. They couldn’t even call me by my real name. I wouldn’t expect them to. “She’s pretty. Pretty skin.” the old men gently caressed my arm, making me vomit a little in my mouth, I swallowed it down with a grimace. “She’s a virgin, too.” he boasted with a sick smile, and I tried not to think of how they found out such private information. “How do you know?” the man looked surprised, appeased, and had a ailing kind of excitement on his face. I prayed to God that I wouldn’t have to leave with him. If God existed, he wouldn’t make me leave with this man. “We checked.” I swallowed hard, my teeth had a firm grip on my bottom lip.

 

“How? Is she still a virgin?” my owner looked tired of the questions. “Of course. She’s worth a lot more than the others.” I didn’t know how I was suppose to feel hearing that I was worth more money than the other hostages. “She listens good, too.” I had no other choice but to listen. “She’s the only one we haven’t had to beat.” he boasted, degrading me even more. I was the scariest one, the one who wasn’t trying to fight back, like I should have. “See, her face is clear.” he grabbed my face harder than I would have liked, showing off my bruise less face. “I’ll take her.” the old man decided with a smile. I whimpered once I realized he only had a few teeth in his mouth.

 

“She goes for 20,000.” the old man looked surprised, flabbergasted, then suddenly angry. “10000.” he cut the price in half, angering my owner. “I told you the price. She’s a special one. Take it or leave it. She’ll sell for more else where.” they spoke about me, right in front of my face as if I was a car. They would all get their karma. All of them.

 

“No, let, go of me!” I heard a puny voice of a tired woman, and immediately every one turned to the distraction. I seen an older woman, about thirty. She had light skin, brunette, and from her facial features, she looked Hispanic. Her drug use was written all over her face. All of the women were crack heads, I was sure. Maybe that’s why I was so “special”. I was the youngest, the most pure, and the cleanest. I wished they would have taken my mother, instead of me. I did nothing to deserve this. I paid for her drug addiction.

 

I watched in awe as she tried to fight the men off of her. She was brave, and for that I admired her. She screamed once they got a firm hold on her. “I’ve had enough with you!” One of our owners screamed in her face. “Kill me. You weak, bitch! God will punish all of you. Soon.” she had a sadistic smile on her face, that scared even me. “Kill her.” a strong voice demanded. I tried to rip my eyes from the scene, but I couldn’t. “Sweet dreams.” he put the gun to her head. “I’ll see you in hell.” she was still smiling, waiting for her death. With no further ado, his finger pressed on the trigger, causing my body to vibrate as the loud sound pierced through my ears.

 

It all happened to fast. Her brains blasted through the air, quickly falling, along with her lifeless body. “Let’s go.” they ordered, quickly piling us in the back of that truck again. I was the closest I was going to get to relieved. In the truck, I knew no one could buy me. “Thank you.” I thanked God up above for saving me from another auction.“Wait, what about my girl!” the old man already tried to stake his claim on me. “She’ll sell elsewhere.” he loaded me up in the truck, and I didn’t give that man a second glance.

 

 

I couldn’t remember the last time they’d even fed us. I had my arms to my side, with out the hand cuffs, gently holding my aching stomach. I wouldn’t dare try to complain, I knew the consequence would be much worse than a stomach ache. They’ve never hit me before, and I wanted to keep it that way. “Seven.” I instantly looked up, and seen a man frowning down at me. “Yes?” I responded politely, as he shoved a plate of food in my hand. It was a burger and fries, while the other women received food that reminded me of mold. I considered myself lucky, besides the terrible circumstance.

 

“Thank you.” I made sure I used all the manners I had, it was the only thing keeping me unharmed. The ‘purity’ they seen in me was the only thing keeping me unharmed, my nice attitude, my virginity, my young face, my much older resembled body, and my ‘clean’ skin as they called it.“Young bitch thinks she lucky…” I heard the woman beside me cackle evilly. I winced when I looked at her face, cracked with age, bruised with time. She was probably only thirty, but her drug use aged her to the point where she looked older than my mom. I decided not to say anything. That was always better for me.










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