I can't remember the last time I watched the sun rise, it must have been years ago. Now, it's the only thing I dream of doing. I haven't seen natural light in months, the dungeon dimly lit by flickering fluorescent lighting.
I only see people once a day when they deliver my meals, usually consisting of table scraps and a glass of murky water. But, they never speak to me, just shove the tray through the bars and once I've finished they take it back and leave, not once looking back.
I'm broken out of my blank state by the heavy door slamming shut.
"Get up, bitch," the man says to me. "You've been requested by the boss."
He unlocks the cell and drags me by the arm up the stairs and into a long hallway.
The light nearly blinds me, it's far too intense for my sensitive eyes, and the noise is deafening. Previously, the only noise I would be blessed with is the squeaks of mice and the slamming of the dungeon door, now my ears are assaulted by dozens of footsteps, the continuous chatter of voices and my heartbeat thumping in my ears.
The man continues to drag me through the hallways, not stopping when I stumble, he just tugs my arm a little harder and quickens his pace.
I don't have the chance to admire the extravagant architecture or the stunning decor, only catching glimpses when my eyes are able to focus.
Once we finally reach our destination, a set of large wooden doors with an intricate emblem of a snake and a rose on both, the man stops to knock.
"Enter," a deep voice says from inside the room.
The man opens the door, and without a moment to consider what's going on, he shoves me into the room and shuts the door behind me, leaving me alone with this stranger.
I look up from the gorgeous rug I'm kneeling on to look into the eyes of a terrifying man.
"Get up."
I do as he say, but not without struggle.
"Sit," he says, pointing to one of the chairs across from the large desk he sits behind.
I obey, my gaze still stuck on his, even though he has returned his focus to the paperwork lining his desk.
"Do you know why you are here?" he asks.
I shake my head, utterly confused as to why I have been held hostage for months.
"Your mother."
My heart stops.
My mother? What happened to her? Is she okay?
"W-what about her?" My voice raspy, my throat dry and sore from lack of use.
"She is the reason you are here," he says, finally lifting his eyes to meet mine. "She had a large debt to pay, and when she couldn't come up with the money, she offered you as payment."
I couldn't believe it. I knew my mother had her issues but I didn't think she had reached the point of bargaining my life.
"Why?" I ask.
"She owed over $25,000. Obviously, she couldn't afford to pay, so here you are."
Unable to think of a response, I slump further into the chair and remain silent. After a few minutes in silence, he speaks again.
"I have no use for you, so I will give you some options," he says. "One, you can work here. Cook, clean, attend to whatever is asked of you. Two, I can sell you. Get back the money your mother owed me and then some. Or option three, you can try to run."
"Run? You're going to let me go?" I ask, completely baffled at the turn of events.
"No. You may try to run," he says. "I will give you a head start, but after five minutes, I will release the dogs."
