I Am The Unheard

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-Prologue-

Those hateful, malicious words still rang in my head as I ran as fast as my weak, beaten legs could carry me, 'You are nothing! Do you hear me?! Nothing!!' My throat choked with unshed tears---tears that had dried up years ago. As I ran, I dared not look behind me.

Free, was I finally free? How could I hope to imagine after fourteen years of going through the Horror that I was finally free?

I felt the rich sun sink into my marred skin, and I turned my dark skinned face towards it, as if expecting it to make me new.

Suddenly all my hope, all my freedom--if it was freedom--faded from view. Cruel, claw-like hands grabbed my arm and dragged me across the red dirt path and back towards my doom. A wicked, raspy voice whispered into my ear, "You're mine, you filth! Do not try to ever escape again or I will do worse than beat you!"

Can I ever hope again?

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Please comment and let me know what you think and if I should continue. Thank you.

Note:

This story is inspired by reality. Human and sex trafficking happens all around the world, just about in every country.

Visit IJM.org to help stop this horrible injustice. Thank you. You can be the unheard's voice!

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CHAPTER ONE: The Pit

I got my last glimpse of the clear blue sky and the bright sun for awhile, before I was shoved into a dim room with a flickering light hanging above me. From there I was chained to the wall, and then two of the master's men began to beat me mercilessly. One used a thorny stick; the other used a mangled, metal rod. I kept my mouth shut and would not cry out. I knew that if I did, they would only beat me more severely.

They kept saying over and over in a taunting, heartless voice, "Never run away again, you filth!"

I blocked out their words and tried to keep my mind on the blue sky and shining sun I had seen, as I endured their beating. No tears fell; my eyes were dry---dry from many long nights of tears and anguish. After the beating ceased, they unchained me and I fell to the ground, barely conscious. I was numb to the pain now, for I was so used to it. They dragged my bruised and bloody body to the Pit.

The Pit: a dirty, slimy, suffocating pit where any of us 'merchandise'---as the master calls us---are put into, if we misbehave. Immediately when I hit the ground, I curled up as tight as I could, to protect myself from what was down here. I wiped the blood from my face on my torn T-shirt, and then I buried my face deeply into it, to over up the hideous smell of death, that reeked all around me. I rocked back and forth to keep myself from falling asleep. If I fell asleep, I would be beaten.

Suddenly I heard an earsplitting scream that seemed to shake the very ground. It was the scream of a young girl...going through the Horror. I clenched my fists till my knuckles turned white; hot hatred rose in me. I bit my lip so hard till the blood flowed, to keep from crying out, "Stop! Stop!"

Just then I heard a scratching sound that jostled me out of my thoughts. I lifted my head slowly up and peered into a dark corner of the Pit where the noise had come from. I saw a huge, balloted rat with matted hair and sharp blackened teeth. It was scratching its way towards a heap in the corner.

What was the heap? I got up and grabbed a rock from the ground and flung it at the rat. It turned around and squealed, drool dripping from its mouth as it lay there dying.

I ignored it and slowly crept over to the heap. It was covered in dirt, leaves and spider webs. I saw a head showing from the heap and I gasped. A human, down here? Are they...dead?

I knew that only one of us 'Merchandise' were throw down here at a time, so my shock was obvious. I knelt down and slowly turned the person over to face me. I could not tell if they were a boy or a girl, but they looked young, around my age. Black mud had caked onto their light colored skin. Their eyes were shut and their body felt cold. So cold, that I was afraid they were dead. But then their eyes flickered, but only for a moment. I instantly felt for their pulse, it was so faint, but there. I took the person gently in my arms and pulled them away from the corner and to the spot I had been. Then I removed my shirt and began to wipe the grim, softly from their face. A groan escaped their cracked lips and their eyes flung open to reveal blue eyes. Blue, like the sky. Their eyes were wide with fear, until they looked into my eyes; then their face softened a bit.

"Am I...dead?" The weak voice of a girl spoke, as she searched my eyes. I nodded 'no' and helped her sit up,

"What is your name?" I asked kindly, trying to ease the hurt I saw in her eyes. She coughed and her whole body shook. Then she spoke softly, her face void of emotion,

"99604."

My heart sunk. She did not remember her real name. All of us 'Merchandise' were given numbers as our new names. I still held onto my real name, 'Ezekiel', though barely. I had to engrave it into my mind, or I would forget it.

"I am Ezekiel. Can...can I call you Deborah?" She just looked like a Deborah, with those sky blue eyes, and what must have been long, blonde hair. Now her hair was cropped and caked with mud and leaves.

She nodded slowly, but did not speak. I helped her lean against the wall of the Pit that I was leaning against.

All of a sudden the heavens broke forth and a torrent of cold rain gushed down upon us. Thankful for once that the Pit had no covering, I stood up and let the rain wash away all the dirt, grim, and blood that covered my body.

Then, cupping my hands, I carefully brought rainwater to Deborah. She drank it quickly and nodded her head for more. I understood that she did not wish to speak often; she had been hurt so badly. I could see it in her eyes.

I gave her as much rainwater as I could hold in my hands, until she was satisfied. Then I drank some myself, turning my face up to the dark sky and letting the rain cascade down my charcoal skin. If only this rain could wash everything clean. If only it could wash away all the hurt, all the pain, and all empty worthlessness that buried itself into my soul.

What will happen to Deborah and I now? How long will we stay in the Pit? How long can we endure the Horror? These questions plagued me greatly. How could there possibly be hope for us? I dared not believe. For I had seen my hopes dashed too many times. Hope seemed lost to me. 'Is hope lost?' The deepest part of my heart and soul, cried out.