CHARLOTTE
I poke at my food as Erica gushes about her experience with Ben, her words hushed as she shares all the dirty details of their late-night tryst. She pushes back her deep red bangs, the hair almost always curling into her bright green eyes. I think she's one of the prettiest girls here, and I'm sure Ben was happy when she chose him.
Not wanting to embarrass myself, I laugh with the rest of the women before taking another bite of my bland sandwich.
Today's the day of the auction and, at this point, most of the women here have taken up the offering of a man. Some have even chosen to take multiple. Erica was one of the few remaining women holding out, but it appears she decided to go for it at the last minute. I don't blame her.
We've been playing ignorant to the future we all know waits for us, but I can tell it's felt by the tense muscles and furrowed eyebrows whenever conversation stops. We can pretend all we want, but the truth weighs heavily on our minds.
"I was so incredibly nervous," Erica admits, flourishing under the attention of the other females. "But he was honestly so attentive to what pleased me. I can see why they keep these men around."
The women surrounding us giggle, and most nod along in agreement. I almost feel a bit silly for not having taken up the offering, and I hope I won't come to regret it when I'm sold. I doubt the men who purchase me will wait long before pumping me full of their children.
Given the commotion and tense bodies of the guards standing along the wall, I assume buyers have already begun to arrive. I imagine that beyond the stillness in this room, the facility is in chaos and men are running around in panic as they attempt to make everything perfect for our buyers.
The intricate details of what happens during the auctions are kept quiet and out of the news, but I've heard rumors that they can be extreme.
Some women here have gone as far as to say that females are often made to lie on their backs and expose their bodies to the room, but I'm holding out hope that's untrue.
The human government is known to have stricter laws regarding the treatment and purchasing of women, and I'd like to believe they wouldn't allow for us to be forced into such vulnerable positions.
To my surprise, the men here have been relatively respectful. I anticipated being treated like an animal, expecting men to order us around with greedy grins, but that's not been the experience.
Some men even seem to feel pity, offering up information and sneaking in small luxuries for us to indulge in. I've gotten more chocolate this past month than in my entire twenty-five years leading up to this. Our guards will likely never be able to afford a female, and they're clearly desperate to do whatever they can to earn the affection of one in the short amount time they have with us.
Either that or they're hoping to flatter a female enough that she picks him to share her bed. It's probably the latter.
I turn, watching a few guards chat amongst themselves. If I'm going to take up the offering of a sexual experience, this is my last opportunity.
I suck my cheeks into my mouth and bite idly at the skin as I mull it over, going back and forth as I debate what I want to do. It might be nice to have that choice over my body, but it also feels like admitting defeat.
With a sigh, I turn and shift my attention back to the table. As foolish as it may be, I'd like to hold out hope that the man—or men, I suppose—who purchases me will love me as my father did my mother. Giving myself away feels like giving up on that dream, and I'm just not ready to do that yet.
