Prologue

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Photo: What I imagine Amelia to look like

The cells... That was what they called it; where ever I was. I had tried to ask them so many times, but I couldn't speak. I could hear them, or at least most of what they said. A lot of the time I'd only hear small snippets of conversations, as if I was dreaming. Sometimes I thought I was dreaming, but I'd come to the conclusion that couldn't be it: You didn't feel pain in dreams, right?

I could hear them talking now, actually. I had to concentrate hard to make out any words.

"Auctioned... sold... three of them, apparently". That was the nice girl, Georgie, they called her. She often spoke to me as if I was awake, and sometimes I think she believed I could hear her. I had tried to communicate, but my body didn't seem to work.

"Probably dead then", said Laura. I inwardly flinched at how causally she said this. This was the way she usually spoke, bluntly and without a care. I wouldn't mind; I used to be honest like that too, but often she spoke to Georgie very harshly. Although they had been one way conversations, I had grown fond of her, in the time I had been here.

How long had I been here? Often it went quiet, and I liked to think of that as night. Even if it wasn't true, it gave me an idea. Going by this logic, I'd been here 9 nights.

But the main question was how long would this last.

And no matter what I thought about, what I listened to, what I did, I couldn't come up with an answer.

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