The Secrets Under Her Skin

1:The Welcoming

The room was cold, and she couldn't move from her position. She heard the sounds of chains and the burning feeling of rope on her skin, along with the thuds of the wooden chair as she moved around. "Seems like the little girl has finally woken up" some man said. The smell of weed filled her nostrils, and her eyes were so blurry she couldn't see the person in front of her.

She felt as if she was drugged, felt like one of hers that she would normally sell. Fuck, it better not be them, please. Due to her lack of family, and having even more apathy for being in an orphanage, selling drugs was the easy way to go. Not until a moment like this.

She felt her chin being yanked up, "She sure is a pretty girl, even when she is half out of it". They dropped her again, her lack of energy didn't even allow her to keep her chin up properly, "It truly is a shame, such a young pretty girl doing such dirty business". The man took another puff out of his weed, then drank from a canister, "but no one shall know what she is truly capable of".

"You have the wrong girl" her voice was raspy, at any point her mind would go blank, "I'm just a local street girl, I have been for years. If you want your drugs take them, I could care less". She heard not one but multiple people laugh, mocking her tone as she heard heavy steps coming towards her, yanking at her brown, curly hair. She grunted in pain as all she saw were black, lust filled eyes, "We aren't your buyers, and you are not some local street girl". His gang laughed as her head was brought down, she could easily feel the amounts of pulls now conjuring.

There was nothing she could do, she was there standing hopelessly, she heard the shackling of someone's boots, then felt an immense pain from her shin. She barely felt herself as she screamed in pain, grunting as she felt something being removed from her. It was a knife, and she felt her blood trickling down her leg as she felt another deep cut through her stomach.

She could smell her own blood at that moment, it was a mixture of her own blood with the weed the entire gang wouldn't stop smoking. Distracted by the pain something swung at her head, "Fuck!". "I don't think you hit her hard enough" she could barely open her eyes, but a shadowy figure stood yards away from her, "Need to teach the young girl not to be such a potty mouth. What a worthless pig".

She brought her head up, attempting to get a better look however felt another swing at her head, "much better, keep her silent. We wouldn't want anyone finding her now". She was gasping for breath, everything felt like it was being taken away from her. Blood flowed from her hair down her face, as another punch to her face came, with a strong metal piece: a brass knuckle. Multiple men surrounded her, and as one grabbed her throat cutting off her air supply, the last thing she remembered hearing before she was summoned by the darkness once again, "keep her alive, she deserves every bit of torture".

This went on for days on end, she only knew because she calculated the times she was knocked out. She could almost feel the time passing by, and she knew when it was a long time they had left for the night. By this time, cuts were all over her, bleeding inside her mouth was her food, she was never given anything. She had cuts and burns surrounding her body from her shoulders down to her legs, her clothing was ripped by the knives and they had even stabbed her more than once. She would never forget the amount of slurs being yelled at her throughout the process. The rope and chain was never removed, and even then she had burns from trying to leave the wretched place. She found herself always catching her breath, her throat always felt like it was closing up, and every time she cursed was just double the amount of pain being felt. She didn't know how much longer she would withstand this.

She soon figured out she was being held in some storage room, an odd place she thought, however she never had the energy to yell in the public area. She knew one day she would try, and that one day would be her final. As she heard the rumbling sound of the room being opened, she decided today would be her last of torture, "HELP! SOMEONE HELP! ANYONE PLEASE, I'M IN-" and immediately she held hands over her mouth, and their other hands squeezed her throat roughly.