I looked up from my cold bare feet to see a figure standing over by the dumpster.
My blood ran cold as I took in the features. They were tall, probably 6'4 and seemed fit from their blurry silhouette. I stared for what seems like minutes before I had a durable potato sack thrown over my red face. I reached up for something- anything to feel to assure me that I was not going to die. All I could feel were someone's cold, square fingertips around my head, trying to drag me alongside them. I screamed, trying to get attention out. I felt a strong smack against my head and everything went dizzy, my arms felt numb and I tried to say something but a whisper only emerged. I took a breath, a breath resembling one of a beached whale and tried to bellow for help as I got picked up. I heard the duct tape before I felt it. It was cold just like outside. It was viciously and may I say messily done around my wrists and ankles. I was kicking and flailing, trying to avoid the wrap up. When they eventually did get my legs together, I felt a quick but painful pinch in my left shoulder. I felt myself be picked up and slung over a shoulder. I was wondering if anyone saw me. If my parents knew what was going on. My parents. I thought of my father and how he used to do this same thing with me. It was fun when he did it. This was not fun. After what seemed like hours of walking, the man carrying me stopped. I heard what sounded like a car door opening. Footsteps came toward me. I heard the distinct snapping of rubber gloves. The sack was removed from my head and before I had time to think I gunned it. But they were ready. Before my third hop, a large black man grabbed my waist and chuckled at my weak attempt to escape. I punched at his massive arms as he held me still.
He carried me to where I was originally. "No no. Put her in the van. She's feisty." The big black man obediently did as he was told and chained me up inside a van. But not before taping my mouth shut. He shut the heavy doors and I could hear a discussion between the two. Soon, the doors reopened. "Hi there, beautiful." Said the man with the gloves. I began to sob and whimper, hoping my girlish cries would earn me mercy. He did one of those "I know your scared but too bad" smiles and said "it's ok. I'm a doctor." He took ahold of my chin with one hand and examined my lower jaw. He also fully examined my eyes and nose. "Ok sweetie I'm going to take this duct tape off. If you scream, I will kill you. Ok?" My eyes widened. And I quickly nodded my head. He smiled and took it off. I didn't make a sound. "Open your mouth please." I did as I was told, fearing one mistake would cost my life. He examined each tooth carefully and wrote many things down on a clipboard. He duct taped my mouth up once more after my oral examination. "Thank you sweetheart." He said. "This is the part that scares some people, but you seem brave." I began to breathe quickly and sob uncontrollably. "But I'm going to have to take your sweatshirt off."I screamed with the duct tape the only thing muffling me. He looked at me patiently. "Now what are you panicking about? Come on I thought you were braver than this." He reached over and pulled my hoodie above my head,but pulled my eyes out, allowing me to see. I wore a blue sports bra. Because my hands were shackled, the hoodie couldn't come off so instead it was around my arms and on my head. He looked at me. "This is going to hurt, but it'll be over fast. Ok?" I shook my head no as he took out a dramatically large scalpel. "If you calm down then I'll tell you what I'm doing." He said staring at me. "I'm going to make a small incision in your belly, right below your bellybutton, and put this in." He held up a small metal box. It was about an inch tall and an inch wide and it was blinking blue lights. I began to sob. "Can I go now?" He said, obviously getting impatient. I shook my head no. No no no. "Well it's now or later." I yelled, muffled, "later" through the duct tape, but was apparently misheard because it was almost extraordinary how fast he made the incision. I screamed, not from the small amount of pain, but for fear of what in hell that box did. He didn't bother to sew it up. He simply closed it with butterfly bandaids and then goz, and the large bandaid. I was shaking with fear, knowing now what distances they will go to. He sat infront of me, waiting for something. I began to scream. For anyone. The man who had made the incision was short. He was about 5'11 and was fairly attractive. He wore thicker glasses and had a brown beard and mustache. Very short, but noticeable. He had green eyes and a longer hair cut, giving him enough hair to spike over to the side. He had on scrubs. The same color as my beautiful green curtains. He smiled at me. His teeth were blindingly white. I stopped screaming long enough for him to lean over to me. "I don't like doing this. Especially to you." He whispered in my ear. I looked him in the eyes. He seemed to be in his mid 20's. He slowly took off the strip of duct tape covering my mouth. I didn't scream. Why didn't I scream? Once he had removed the tape, he pressed his lips against mine. He had surprisingly soft lips for a man, and he was very gentle at first. I didn't kiss back. Once he realized I didn't, he became more violent. He had over time managed to have his shirt removed. As he gripped at my pants, the back door swing open furiously. "DAMMIT IVAN. YOU KNOW WE CANT DO THIS NOW." He looked up at the large black man who had I defiantly saved me. "Put your damned clothes back on, dipshit!" He yelled. Ivan scurried to put his clothes back on. I was sweating and breathing heavily. He shot me a smile and mouthed "next time" I shivered. The black man put my clothing back on. "I'm sorry." He said. I looked at him in the eyes, which darted away as soon a we made contact. Ivan had jumped out of the van, which was still parked in an ally way. "Let's start her up." The black man said, referring to the van this time. I sat there, wondering what to think of myself. Ivan and the black man were driving the van. "Gale's gonna love this one." Ivan spoke softly. "He likes the younger frisky ones." The black man had no reply. "Joe." Ivan said, wanting a reply. The black man, as I now knew as Joe, just grumbled. The drive was long. It had many many pit stops where Ivan constantly tried to get in my pants quite literally. I didn't allow it as much, knowing there was no way to get out of the shackles this way. At one stop, Joe went to pump the gas into the van and just as the car door slammed, Ivan hopped Into the back and touched his nose to mine. He whispered something that I couldn't quite make out and started taking off his pants. I started to sob silently, hoping he wouldn't smack me for being scared. But before he could do anything too serious, Joe got back into the car. "Ivan!" He yelled. "Oh shit." Ivan mumbled, grabbing his pants and shooting me a cute smirk. He winked at me and I sighed angrily, knowing i couldn't do anything about it. "Alright, Stephanie. We're gonna get home soon, so I want you to stay quiet. Ok?" Joe said loud enough for me to hear. I shook my head yes while tears flowed down my sweating chest.
