Fighting My Way Out

Welcome To Your New Home

Light started to wake up the world as I found myself sitting on a fallen tree by the side of the road. I had been walking for hours with no end and no town in sight. I was certain I had frost bite setting into my toes and fingers but allowed that information to slip my mind. I couldn't continue in my condition, I was too weak and numb to walk another mile. I felt my mind start to lose focus as darkness crept into the corners of my vision from the pain throughout my whole body. In the distance of my mind, I heard a car come to a stop and then the muted sound of a car door shutting. Warmth surrounded my body from inside a blanket as I was helped into a car. A soothing voice told me everything was going to be fine now and I slowly lost consciousness.

When I woke again, I was warm and covered in bandages. I could tell I had been bathed and dressed in clean clothes just by the feel of it. I couldn't tell where I was or what I was lying on, but it was far superior to what I had been lying on in the Wrights' basement.

I opened my eyes, everything was blurry at first until I rubbed the crust from them with gauzed fingers. I looked around the unfamiliar, bright room in confusion; I felt drugged and loopy for a moment, but it wore off after several minutes. I hardly remembered how I got there and had no idea where I was; but I did know I wasn't chained to a wall. I sat up with a bit of difficulty, wincing as my wrapped feet hit the hardwood floor. My skin was clean of the dirt from the basement and I was dressed in a loose cotton white shirt and matching pants, my old dirty robe nowhere to be seen. My bruises on my broken wrist were bright and angry-looking, I was surprised whoever it was that took care of me didn't put some kind of cast or brace around it, leaving it exposed. The frost bite on my fingers and toes were too wrapped to be seen, but they ached when I moved too fast. Tentatively, I walked over to the door, fearing it to be locked and was surprised when it wasn't. The door opened without a squeak to an elegant hallway filled with artwork on one side and large windows on the other. I stepped lightly into the hallway and someone seemed to appear at my side.

"Good afternoon, ma'am," he said, looking very much like a butler. "If you'll follow me into the dining hall, food is being served."

I was weary of that new man, given my new trust issues, but followed him down the hall. It curved around before coming to large double doors of old oak. The butler pushed them open and a cacophony of voices exploded from the other side. Just past the door was a long table, longer than any table I had ever seen before and it was filled with people of a sizeable age range. If the artwork in the hall wasn't an indication of wealth, then the three crystal chandeliers were.

"Where the hell am I?" I asked, looking about the room in slight awe.

"Please, eat," said the butler. "Your questions will be answered momentarily."

I nodded, trying to wrap my head around all the events of late as I sat down in one of the few empty seats left at the table. They didn't seem to notice my presence as they kept eating and conversing amongst themselves. In my mind, everyone seemed happy and comfortable there in that apparent mansion. They were dressed nicely with healthy bodies that glowed with some unknown energy.

"Who are you?" asked a girl to my right, a few years younger.

"I'm Reagan. Where am I?"

The young girl smiled. "Oh, you're the new one they rescued, how exciting. I'm Sam."

I frowned. "Rescued? Yeah, I guess I was somewhere on the side of the road... So why am I here? I want to go home."

Sam's smile widened. "You are home, silly. This is where we all live and people come to visit us. They say nice things and touch our bodies that feels so good. Why would you ever want to leave? None of us ever think about leaving, it's perfect here."

Any hopefulness I had before trickled away into my constricted gut. I had the distinct feeling I was still trapped wherever I was and that place was possibly worse. Everyone there looked as though they didn't want to leave, they wanted to live there for the rest of their lives. But after everything I had been through, I wanted nothing more than to escape again.

I looked around the dining hall at all the smiling faces and felt a sense of disgust at it all. All those people had no idea what was happening to them, and I didn't think I would have either had it not been for the Wrights. But now I knew better, I knew when I was being used for someone else's agenda after being tricked into false security just days ago. And all those people were being drugged and used for sex slaves.

"Tell me, Sam," I said, "how do I leave? There must be a car or something to drive away with, or maybe just a road I can follow into town."

Sam laughed, a light sound. "No way, you don't want to leave here, do you? Everything is perfect here and no one is rough to us. You'll see, they treat us real nice."

"Yeah, but what about your parents, your real home? Don't you want to see them again? You don't want to be used in this way, do you? I mean, you have to realize you're being used for sex and you're imprisoned in this house probably against your will."

Sam paused, looking confused for a moment. "No, no, I... I don't... I don't know."

Then she brightened up again like a flick of a switch, pushing a plate of food toward me.

"Here," said Sam, "eat, it's good! Eat, eat, eat."

As she said that, more kids around me pushed food toward me, smiling widely, repeating what Sam had said trying to persuade me to eat. I immediately knew not to eat any of the food; odds were it was filled with some kind of drug to make them susceptible to suggestion. That was the only thing that made sense to me as to why the people there were so willing to forget about their past lives and families who were probably looking for them. The people who owned that property must have been just like Jill and Allen, but on a classier level with the mansion and food; no doubt they treated them well, but I knew better. Where Jill and Allen had been kidnappers, the people there were most likely the ones who put those people on the market to be sold. They cleaned those kids up, drugged them to make them stay, and gained a huge profit off their unwilling cooperation. My mind was screaming for me to get out, but didn't know if those kids would defend their home if I made a run for it.

"Where's the bathroom?" I asked Sam without touching the food.

Sam pointed off somewhere behind us to the right, down another long hall. I smiled politely and excused myself; some of the kids watched me leave with interest. I strolled down the hall, having no intention of finding the bathroom, only trying to cover up my escape.