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Selfless Distaste

The empty sandbag covers my head, wrapped tight while my hands lie tip tied in my lap. The scratching bag keeps me blind, and my over thinking head keeps me occupied elsewhere. Of course I don't know where we are, that would mean that if I ever did find a way out id be just as lost as my mind is now. The bumping of the van forces my head into the wall behind me, with each pothole we hit I feel the split in my hairline open wider and the gush of red flows faster down my neck. It pools there, sitting congealing due to the bag that is close to suffocating me. It doesn't, breathing takes place as it usually would and I survive minute by minute hoping that whatever happens next happens quickly.

Time is indifferent. When you don't know where you are, time is nothing. After what feels like nothing more than five minutes but so much longer than an hour, the truck slows down to a final stop. Still blinded I feel rough hands brush past my shoulder as they grab the young girl to my side, merely a child in comparison to me. My only companion over the last while, someone to discuss the situation with in what is likely our final hours. We both know what happens to the likes of her once twisted men like this are finished abusing her, today's society is sick.

Another pair of scratched hands grab my bare skin and the stench of breath left unattended fills the air around me, if only the bag covered more than my sight. The stranger all but carries my struggling body out from the vehicle, making a conscious attempt to hit my head on the way out the two back doors. More blood. This man cares nothing for my wellbeing and I know he'd use me for his deeds awake, asleep or dead. A man dedicated to abducting women will be willing to make sure his time is of worth, and a falter in resistance may even be a nice change for him. Perverted creep.

Leverage changed many things at once, able to move both hands up to the collar of his clothes made it almost too easy. I push my body forward with my knee braced for impact, and I'm rewarded with a low groan as my leg collides with his stomach hard enough to wind a bull. His falter in step leaves me vulnerable to escape, moving the hands above my head I grab the bag that threatens to choke me pull until it slips over the brunette hair caked in drying blood. The middle aged man is recovering, and I'm beginning to see his rage through eyes that sun glare effects harshly. Moving forward unsteadily I strike with my kneecap again, into a face hunched over. A satisfying crunch greets my bones as the cartilage in his noes shatters. Fifteen seconds is all it took to leave one captive behind me, withering in the dirt holding a face that was already unattractive before I gave him an alternative look.

The young girl, Bonnie. She was taken into the dark warehouse to my left, it shows by the freshly moved gravel that represents a struggling human who knows their days are numbered. The only building in the area stood about five meters tall and twenty meters wide, depth was hard to gage, but the sheets of metal the layered the outside stretched for a while. My eyes were finally adjusting the piercing sun and only now that I was able to see in front of me, I automatically knew my future depended on me entering the building, to save at least one child from a short life of suffering. There was definitely more of the pests that captured for personal use.

Entering the cage, I knew my mistake. Others look after themselves, I should care more about my own well-being above that of a girl who would pass me in the streets without a second glance. But I was here now, too late to try and turn around because although self-preservation is required, my selfless needs would have me cartwheeling between saving the others or living a life of "what if?" It's a question I didn't necessarily want answer at this point, or any point in the future.

Walking forth was a chore, moving forward a job with no pay. Dull light filled the end of the walkway, cries vibrated off the walls around me and echoed throughout the iron surroundings that incased the amount of times I could hear each wail tenfold. Machinery worked to either side of me, sounding unoiled and loud, I hope this will cover my loud footsteps that would usually carry throughout such an open space and would likely get me caught in the act and caught in the bag again. That's not something I could risk, I've spent my luck escaping once and they wouldn't let it happen again.