“Rise.” A simple command, with such a powerful response from all the women, including myself. We weren’t even women anymore. At least it didn’t feel that way. We were useless items, used and sold for the benefit of men. I often wondered how a sick mind worked. How they could sell women, the same creature that birthed them, made it possible for them to breathe. To live. They should have been killed at birth.

I rose quickly, as I usually did. I was the first one standing, trying to emotionally prepare myself for an auction. It was never easy. With an action as simple as raising the price, your life could change. Your well being depended on simple words, whether they agreed that you were worth your price or not. The prices differed drastically. Some women were one thousand, while some were ten thousand. Obviously, it all depended on your well being. The shape you were in, beauty, and it definitely helped my price go up, when they discovered my innocence.

They didn’t bother to put us in chains. They didn’t struggle with installing fear in us. If we ran, we died. They made it simple. There was no place to run to, anyway. Not like we would know our way around, when we didn’t know where we were. We lost track of days, the time, everything. When things like this happen, you kind of focus on the more important things. Birthdays, time, days, none of it really matters when you’re uncertain if you’ll live to see another minute.

Like soldiers, we slowly, somberly marched out of the van that we lived in. We all looked at each other, sadly. Our eyes wishing another the best of luck. Almost in unison, we faced our potential owners, speculating them all. Their eyes mirrored the same interest, twisted in a sick way. It was obvious these men weren’t American. Maybe we weren’t even in America anymore. I noticed the way one of the potential owners looked at me, and the bidding began…

I didn’t dare move, although my feet were itching to run. He slowly walked up to me, and I felt my lunch threaten to spill over. I looked at the man, and allowed my eyes to trace over his physique. He was tall, with wild curly brown hair, and deep blue eyes that reminded me of the sea. He was the youngest person there, and probably the closest I could get to my age. He grabbed my face, as he stared down at my body. In that moment, a sick thought crossed my mind, and I knew that it was possible that I could have been as fucked up as every one else was.

His eyes trailed back up, eyeing my face. I allowed myself to break the stare I obtained with the ground, and let my eyes roll up to meet his. His blue eyes were full of malevolence, and I was certain that those blue eyes seen things that were possibly worse than what my eyes had endured. I wished that he would be the one to take me. Out of all the men, he was the youngest, best looking, and maybe the best spelling. It was sick, grotesque, but I didn’t reject the contemplation. What did that make me? An outcome of my surroundings?

“She’s the most excellent.” his voice was scratchy, rough, and unfriendly. He squeezed my face harder. I snapped my eyes shut in response. I heard a low chuckle rumble within his chest. “However, I’m not too eager to keep one with such dark skin.” I wasn’t good enough. I was the best there. Still not good enough. I didn’t say a word, although they threatened to spill over. “She’s the youngest, purest, and best in health. Surely, she is worth your price.” My owner persuasive broken English.

The man’s hard hands brushed over my eye lids. I gradually opened them, hoping that I was doing what he wanted me to do. “What’s your name.” I couldn’t put a finger on his accent. I breathed, hoping the smell of my breath wasn’t offending him too much. They allowed us to clean up a bit before auctions. “Lia.” I spoke quietly, hoping he would hear me. “Lia.” he repeated in delight, letting his rough hands trace over my arms. “How much is Lia?” he looked back at my owner, while I devoured his physical.

“Seven is twenty thousand, up front.” My owner sounded disgusted that he even asked my name. He hated women, that much was obvious. “Twenty?” the man repeated distastefully, I swallowed hard. It was either him, or a man in his late sixties with a beer belly. Why did I even care what my owner looked like? Did it matter? No. It shouldn’t have. Any man who would allow this to happen to a women was sick. I hung my head low in shame. “Twenty. She’ll sell else where.” My owner shot back rudely, and I knew his facial expressions were mirroring that of anger.

The man let his eyes roll down my body, as if he was trying to make a decision. I was shaking, even though I tried my hardest not to. He let go of me, and my body relax immediately. He spoke a different language to my owner, and I tried to pick up on the tone. They sounded like they were arguing, yet again. I looked around at the other women, who didn’t look as scared as I did. It was like they didn’t care about their well being. A loud sound caused me to jump, and I instinctively squeezed my eyes shut. I felt a firm, painful grip around my arm, pulling me towards an unknown direction.

I opened my eyes and seen my owner sprawled out on the floor, his red blood spilling, swiftly painting the black, dirty street. I tried to feel sad. I felt a bit of joy start through my toes. It quickly ended once the man put the same gun up to my head. “Move or you die.” I nodded, my feet generating a mind of their own. “Pig.” he spit on my owner as he pulled out a stack of money, throwing it distastefully over his lifeless body. He pointed the gun at my owner’s partner, and smiled wickedly. “I’ll kill you too. Take the money and leave.” I looked at my owner’s partner, and knew instantly that he was weak, when he nodded his little head like a good boy.

He didn’t even grab all of the money as he pointed the gun as the women, making them climb back into the van in a panic. I bit my lip, looking at the women who were panicking as well. As weak as the man was, I was certain that with the man in charge dead, things would go down. The women would probably be freed quickly, while I would be with the man with the deep blue eyes. I would be his slave, and he would be able to do whatever he wanted with me.

He pushed me into a van that painfully resembled the one I was captured in, but I wasn’t alone. There was two other women, rather teenagers. They were tied up, with dirt in their hair. Their eyes told me they had been auctioned off longer than I was. He quickly tied me up, and gave me a kiss on the lips. “Try any funny shit, and I won’t hesitate to kill you.” I nodded, looking down at my tan shirt that was three sizes too big. As he closed the van, darkness enveloped the small room, and I felt alone.

“He’s gonna kill us, you know.” her voice was high, timid, emotionless. “Shut up, Ashley.” this voice was different. Low in tone for a woman’s voice. I could practically hear her shaking. “Maybe… they’ll let three of us go.” I didn’t dare to speak. I hadn’t spoken for nearly a month. I’d forgotten how my own voice sounded. “He’s robbed men of their best women.” this voice was low. While she sounded young, I knew she’d been through more than all of us. She’d probably been there the longest, and knew more. “Us. He’s doing this for some one. A young boy. The boy will choose one of us. The rest will die.” Her voice was cold, and detached. She had time to get used to the idea.

No one said a word after that. We let her words sink into our minds, as our tears flowed. In that moment, I didn’t feel alone. While we were wrapped up, and couldn’t physically touch each other, our tears were one in the same. Our fear, connected us. Three of us would have shared the same fate. I looked back at my foolish thoughts from less than an hour ago. How badly I wanted the man with the deep blue eyes to purchase me. I could hear my mother’s sardonic snicker, feel her bony, uncomfortable fingers in my hair. Maybe god would take pity on me, and this would be the end. Or maybe he found this twisted ache humorous, and prolong my journey towards demise. It was all of our hands.