Is this what happened to Amber Johnson, the young girl I was trying to get information about when I was taken? Was she the victim of one of these types of operations? Was she the victim of this particular operation? Did my stepfather have something to do with her disappearance as well? Was he the one who sent me that email resulting in my exploration of the abandoned building and the death of my fiancé? Is Amber in this house somewhere? I snuck out one day to see if I was the only one here and came across a young girl named Tina. I had barely found her when I was caught by Tony, the head guard, and beaten. That was a week ago, and I still feel the bruises on my back and legs, so I haven’t dared to venture out again.
There isn’t much to do here in this cell except for sleep and ponder what kind of torture I will have to suffer today. In my head, I write a story about the depravity of our society. How organizations like this one are forming right under our noses? How are women and children going missing and the first line of thought is that they are runaways or victims of homicide. When there is no body found, why aren’t we searching for human trafficking problems? People don’t just disappear and go nowhere.
When loud, angry voices break up the silence, I crawl to the door to listen in. Someone is yelling just down the hall about rape and S.T.D.’s. Are they talking about me? It sounds like the new guard is fighting with someone on our behalf, but why? None of the old guards have been to my room since the new guard came. Is this his doing?
Several hours later I jerk awake and cover my head before I realize that the new guard has brought me food. He helps me sit up and sets the plate on my lap then places the bottle of water by my feet. The Advil he has brought helps with the pain of the bruising in my back and legs and being without drugs for a few days has helped my body clear the substance out of my system. I am thinking more clearly and have so many questions for this man but decide to remain silent for now. A loud scream rents the air and the guard leaves in a hurry. Leaving me alone with my thoughts and a lot of confusion.
Tonight I found a blanket and pillow just inside my door along with a plate of spaghetti. After I eat, I continue to write my story in my head until I fall asleep. This goes on for several days, eating, sleeping, thinking, and crying. The betrayal of my stepfather has finally broken through and brought forth a flood of emotions. I have been in survival mode for so long that I haven’t had time to think of why I was here. Money.
I will never trust the concept of love again. My stepfather, Thomas, claimed to love me, but the idea of a multibillion-dollar payout was more important than the love he may have had for a stepdaughter. Thomas is hoping to gain control of my inheritance. Vrennikov, the man who runs this human trafficking organization, obviously has no idea the meal ticket he holds in his basement, or he would have contacted my fathers’ family and I would be free. I can only assume that Thomas did not disclose my real name or worth and he hasn’t reported me missing to my fathers’ family. They would move heaven and earth to reclaim their only son’s only daughter.
Screaming again wakes me from my slumber, but these are not screams of pain, they are muffled screams of pleasure. Either the guards have brought in prostitutes or the girl next door has succumbed to the charms of her guard. I haven’t been bothered for several days other than for the new guard to bring me food or medicine, but if I thought the new girl was being forced, I would put myself at risk for her. It has already happened to me, even though I don’t remember, so I would sacrifice myself for an innocent victim. A half an hour later more yelling ensues in the hall.
“Get in the damn hall.”
The angry voice of Jax, the new guard for the girl next-door, echoes through the basement. Within seconds everything is quiet and calm; I can’t hear the rest of the conversation, so I curl up again and write my story in my head.
Today a gorgeous man with dark hair and sky blue eyes brings me food. Thank God for the blanket that has been my armor for a few days. I know this blanket could not protect me if he decided to force himself on me, but with his looks, I’m sure he wouldn’t have to force himself on anyone. He comes in and sets down the food, winks and smiles my way but doesn’t say anything at all. With a show of surrender, he raises his hands and slowly backs out of the room. I smile at his antics and begin to eat my food. Smiling almost feels foreign because it has been a while since I’ve had anything to smile about.
Several days go by with no change. The one named Sav now brings me food and checks on me several times a day. He finally got up the nerve to ask me if I needed anything but knowing that he couldn’t give me freedom, I remained silent. There is a charge in the atmosphere today. Something is happening or is going to happen. I follow my instincts always, especially when writing a story and I have a feeling that I need to prepare
