We were in that room for three hours, then whisked off in separate directions and I was placed into a holding cell. It was essentially a small elevator no bigger than a closet covered floor to ceiling in plush black velvet, even the door was velvet.
I felt the box shudder and begin to move. It slowly crawled up the elevator shaft for about five seconds and jolted to a stop. My breath hitched in my throat and I felt my whole body go numb as anxiety took over. A million thoughts raced through my brain, would I ever see Abbey again? Where am I going? What's on the other side of the door? Oh my god, am I going to survive this....
A bell chimed and the doors slid open, I stood frozen and peered out through the opening. Two men stood on either side of the doorway, they were dressed in black suits and had ear pieces attached to small walkies clipped at their belts.
They grabbed me by my arms at each side and walked me down a short glass hallway that opened into a decent sized wall to wall mirrored chamber. They placed me onto a small circular platform in the middle of the room and instructed me not to move. I looked around and saw only my own reflection; dirty, sickly, and with a look on my face like that of a deer in the headlights.
The lights went off and a loud buzz echoed in the blackness followed by a dull monotonous voice,
"Item number three hundred and seventy-five. Brunette. 23. Bidding starts at thirteen thousand."
A spotlight came down on me and the platform began to slowly rotate. The kind of music that you'd hear in an elevator softly whirled through the darkness. I kept my eyes down trying to hold back tears. My heart was pounding so hard I could feel it in every part of my body. The blood rushing in my ears drowned out the music and I almost didn't hear the intercom buzz again.
"Item three hundred and seventy-five, sold. Gentlemen, this auction is over,"
The monotone voice again filled the room.
"You may collect your winnings in the lobby in 10 minutes. Thank you for playing." Buzz.
My heart sank.
YOU ARE READING
Traffic
Mystery / ThrillerWhen the rich own the poor, the poor have no choice but to sacrifice themselves to stay alive. Constantly revising/editing Please remember to vote if you enjoyed
