Holding What's Mine

Stolen

Present Day.

Today is my birthday and I Essie have turned 18.

When people reach 18 they are adults who are free. On their 18th birthday they would be congratulated and they would be able to eat, drink alcohol and have fun. The place of celebration would have streamers, balloons and a dance floor.

Across the room their grandparents would approach them pinching their cheeks commenting how much they had grown, whilst their Dad would tell funny stories and Mum would be drinking champagne just getting tipsy from one glass.

But that type of Birthday was not for me.

Looking across the cell, a plate of stale bread rested on the floor.

The grime along the floor, ceiling and walls stunk of mould that made my nose itch. My hair once brown was black with filth, as my dirty body clung with now only little bits of remaining clothing exposing massive amounts of my clevage. The cuts on my skin stung as I moved into an upright position, dragging my knees to my face.

Happy Birthday to me.

I remember coming here, to this place or rather this cell.

I remember waking up as my little self and getting to my feet as I looked around, wondering how I ended up here. From walking to school, my mouth was covered as I was shoved into the car and before you know it I was here.

I have been here for 12 years.

12 years and time went so slowly here.

I'd been in this cell and not seeing the outside world for 12 years. In this building house or whatever it was I'd only seen two places, this cell and the bathroom which I only had access to twice a week, I think.

Call me abused or whatever but I never stop trying to get out. The whole world is continuing whilst I'm trapped, trapped here in this place with only two brutes.

These two brutes have watched me grow and besides them I've had no interaction with anything else. Both of them were twins both with dark features of black hair and black eyes. They mostly left me alone or they would talk to me calling me names and telling me how useless I am and how my mum and Damien sold me.

Yep and that's why I'm here.

They sold me.

Sold me to somebody I have no recognition of.

An unknown mystery and why they kept me here, I have no idea.

Whilst I've been here, I've been beaten and beaten acting only as a human punching bag.

When I was 13 in this cell, I remember cramps in my stomach and a trickle between my well...you know. Looking down blood trailed along my leg to the floor and when I yelled out, the brutes looked at each other grunted leading me to the shower. I would ask them what was happening but they didn't know.

Then for that moment I remembered my knights at the round table underneath the willow tree at school, happy. I remembered the last meeting we discussed this happening and I came to realise I had my period.

Once a month that occurred and it felt worse when they beat me, making sure I had no will power to stand against them.

I'd tell them to stop, but they would beat me till unconsciousness each time.

Other than that I had nothing.

But I had one thing.

My ring.

The ring that was given to me on that walk to school.

The day seemed so long ago, that I hardly even remember.