27 Million

When I woke up, I couldn't see.

All around me was pitch black, the unnatural darkness that came with a sliver of night  in the middle of the day, the overwhelming kind that slowly suffocated you. I could feel the cold and damp of the wall behind me seeping in through my thin blouse, the rough bricks chafing my skin through the flimsy material. My shoulders burned as my arms were pulled up above my head at awkward angles, my wrists raw. I tried to pull my arms down, but they were stopped in their tracks. I tugged and tugged, a harsh jingle accompanying each pull. Admitting defeat and accepting panic in the same moment, I relaxed and let my arms fall.

My heart beat picked up and my breathing with it. I drew my stiff legs up to my chest, choking back sobs of dispair. My head fell down as far as it could, restricted as it was by the chains that held my wrists. Something scuttled past my foot, and I drew further back into my corner at the accompanying squeak.

I couldn't see, but I could still feel.

The wall I sat against was slimey and cold, covered in mildew and mould. My body shivered, slathered from head to foot in grime and sweat. My hair stuck to my face, slick with grease, loose from the hairtie that was probably now lost forever.

Odd how I was so sad about the loss of a hairtie. Just a few days ago I would have thought nothing of it, but now, it seemed like I had lost a piece of me. A piece of my old life.

~*~

I sat for hours in my own filth, waiting.

Something had to happen. What, I didn't know, but there would be something. With only the rats to keep me company, I waited.

Waiting takes longer when you don't know what you're waiting for.

Was I waiting for someone to rescue me? For someone to tell me what I was here for?

Eventually, the door opened, and when it did, I wish it never had.

~*~

I pulled the skimpy dress down over my battered body, applying more concealer as I went. My inner thighs were the worst. I couldn't cover all the discolouration, so I tugged at my dress again and left the room, my weak ankles twisting in the heels I wore.

The man who was waiting outside the door screamed something in Russian and grabbed my arm roughly. I knew enough by now not to complain. Knowing what I know now, maybe I was just too drugged up to care.

He dragged me down the stairs, and I followed him out the door and to the car. He dropped me off with a few other girls and our night began.

~*~

Ten cars later and I was in a drunken, stoned daze. I took small sips from a bottle of Vodka one of the other girls had, the firey liquid burning my insides and keeping me warm.

Another car pulled up, the tinted window rolled down, and a man beckoned me inside. I complied. I had no choice.

~*~

Hours later and we were back at the House. I lay on a stained mattress, one wrist handcuffed to the bedpost. My eyes were on the ceiling, staring unseeingly at the damp stains. I should have been sleeping. I didn't sleep.

The door opened and my eyes flickered over to it. Months later and my heart would be in my throat, my breathing would pick up and I would pull at the handcuff-too scared to scream.

But now, I just stared.

~*~

One.

One.

That was my name now.

Number one. I wasn't the first girl to get sold, but I was the oldest.

I was One. One was my name.

I couldn't even remember my real name.

Once I swore to myself I would escape.

But now I knew it was impossible.

I stopped fighting a long time ago. The battle I swore I'd win, no matter how long it took me, no matter how hard it was, was finally over as I pushed the needle into my arm and prayed for an easy passing.

"Forgive me."

Okay, so some of you may be wondering 'What the heck was that and why is this author, who normally writes comedy, writing it?'

Well this is something I feel very strongly about. This short story was about Human Trafficking, specifically sex slavery. There are 27 Million slaves out in the world, which is more than ever before, even when slavery was legal.

Ever seen the film 'Taken'? Think about it.

Remember 'Bad Romance' by Lady Gaga? Remember the music video?

You should think about that too.

Not all stories have to end like One's. We can stop this from happening. On the side is the link to the A21 Campaign who are trying to end Human Trafficking all over the world, and with your help they can. Please please please, I am begging you, spread this story around, spread the word. You don't have to donate money, there are a million and one ways you can help these people out of slavery. 

There are 27 Million out there who need help-but there are 7 Billion of us who can help them. Let's give it to them.