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*TW: Mention of drugs and child abuse and r@pe*
Screams. Ripples of pain throughout my body. Silent cries for mercy.
They didn't let me treat the burns on my body. They burned me because I didn't cook for them.
I had to 'stop being weak and stop crying' or I'd get an even worse punishment.
I saw '53' written on the side. I got closed and saw there was no door. I knocked on the frame of the nonexistent door. A woman with a short tight dress came out of a room on the side and looked at me with disgust.
I wrapped the sweater around me and tightly held on to my jacket. I turned and I saw a scary looking man with a scorpion tattoo on the side. He was guarding a blue door. He looked familiar. My thoughts came running in trying to think of where I saw him. For a 10 year old he was really intimidating.
I went to the man slowly while looking at the floor. The security guard looked down at me. His dark eyes were looking at me softly with a confused look in his eyes. "Si?" said his rough voice.
"I- I'm looking for Mr. Ganari. Mr. Vasquez and Mrs. Vasquez sent me" I said softly.
They never let me call them 'mom and dad'. Whenever I talked to them I had to call them 'Mrs. and Ms. Vasquez' and I could never look them in the eyes.
It was considered disrespectful.
He nodded to the blue door next to him. He gently opened the door and spoke in an unfamiliar language. He turned around and nodded his head inside. I went inside and started fidgeting with the paper in my pocket.
"You must be tiny Ms. Vasquez" said a voice from the middle of the room. I looked around the room. It was an office that looked much better than the outside. I looked at the voice and a shiver ran down my spine.
I nodded. He pointed to the chair. I walked over and sat down. "What can I do for you ma'am?" he said, smiling.
"Mr. and Mrs. Vasquez wanted these items" I said softly. I grabbed the paper from my pocket and gave it to him. I glanced down at my dirty and ripped shoes.
"What's your name? How old are you?" he said, crumbling the paper up.
"Mia. I am 10 years old, sir," I said. I didn't look up to see his reaction.
He huffed. "Those sick bastards," he said.
He went on his phone and started typing. I looked at the bookcases at the side of the room. I smiled.
The first book I ever had was burned and once there was nothing but ash they came up to me and put the burning hot ash on my legs. Saying that 'if I ever waste money on stupid shit they'd burn me with the book'.
