Sold to the trade* (Watty awards 2012)

Sold to the trade

Sold to the trade.

I still remember that night. It was my third birthday, my parents told me, and I was going to buy a new dress. I still remember how excited I was. I was so happy- grinning like a fool- telling my mum and dad that I loved them so much.

I did.

Little did I know that happiness would soon be gone, because my parents had set a price on me - a price on their own daughter. To them I was worth only six hundred dollars. That was thirteen years ago, but I still remember it crystal clear, the man who I called my father asked, “How much is she worth?”

I was so excited. I was wearing my new dress, I had my hair cut. It looked beautiful. The man gave my dad a wad of money and my dad took it and left me there. I was crying, begging for them to come back, saying the man was hurting me. He was. His grip on my arm was so strong, his rings were poking into my forearm.

That was the worst birthday in the history of all worst birthdays.

I can say with 100% confidence, getting sold on your birthday….yeah, not the best gift.

I remember it clearly up till the age of six, when I was rescued by my current carers- Rachel and Andy.

I was a victim of human trafficking. People who think it doesn’t happen around their area- it does, it has. My life was perfect, or so I thought. I had the best parents in the world who made me believe that nothing bad would happen to me.

I was dragged into an illusion. I thought the world was a safe place as long as I had my parents.

I was wrong.

It was them who showed me that the world is not perfect.

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“Your mine now” he said, his voice deep and his eyes covered in lust as he pushed my broken and bruised body onto the bed.

I cried out in pain, “Mamma!” hoping someone would help me.

He chuckled. “Your mothers not coming girl, she gave you to me. You belong to me,” he said evilly.

My body shook with fear. I pushed myself away from him. “My mamma wouldn’t do that to me, she loves me!” I screamed at him, tears welling up in my eyes.

“That’s where you’re wrong princess,” he said while undoing his belt. “She loves money way more than you.”

Who’s money? Why did it take my Mamma from me? Who is this man? Why does my Mamma hate me? Is it because I didn’t put away my toys?

He wrapped the belt around his knuckles, a long part of it dangling off the end of his hand. He bought it up to his head and I felt a sharp stinging on my arm where he whipped me. I screamed out in pain.

My eyes snapped open. Sweat was covering my forehead. I sat up, my chest heaving up and down. I was trembling with fear.

The door burst open and a very worried looking Rachel was standing at the entrance. “Honey are you okay?” she asked.

I nodded my head “Y-yeah…I-I had a n-nightmare” I stuttered.

She nodded her head understandingly as she began walking towards my bed. I moved to the left to give her space to sit as she slid in next to me and I laid my head on her lap. She smiled and softly ran a hand through my hair. This was a routine- she did this and it always calmed me down.

“I'm sorry I woke you,” I whisper.

“It’s okay, I was going to wake up at 7:00 anyway,” she said.