Vicky woke up in a dingy, musty room, lying on an antique flowery floor. Stilldizzy from the hypnotic drug; she took a look around. Old gold and green wallpaper linedthe walls, but had comeunstuck in some places, andthere was only one source of light coming from a small window. Vicky staggered to her feet and stood up.
The door opened andthe same blonde man from the hotel room, with a piece of black cloth on his right eye instead of an eye patch, and three other men walked in after him. She looked around to find anything to use as a weapon but the blonde guy’s lips curled upwards. The older man, around fifty, with the long, grey, wavy hair walked closer and looked Vicky up and down.
‘Fabrizio, I like her. I like her a lot.’
He put his hand in his pocket and took out a wad of money, handing it over to Fabrizio. Fabrizio took it in his hands and his blue eye sparkled. The other two guys went to grab her but Vicky backed away. They herded her into a corner and grabbed an arm each, dragging her towards them. Shetried to resist and escape their strong grip, but while she was screaming they were walking through a hallway with brown wooden doors onevery side. She saw a man with abeard and tattoos holding the hand of a young Chinese boy and enter a room. Vicky and the boy looked at each other; the boy’s expression mirrored her own. Inside the rooma middle-aged man sat on a rickety bed. The man with the beard left the boy inside, closed the door and left.
In the back of a van, with her hands tied behind herback, Vicky tried to work out whatwas happening. Her heart started pounding really fast; her face started sweating trying to control her rapid breath. The back of the van was filthy with some pillows down as seats. Huddled in the cornera little girl convoluted while clinging to a small doll in her hands. Hereyes were screaming withfear. The van stopped and the side door opened.
‘Get out,’ said one of the two men. Neither of them made a move. The same guy pulled the hand of the little girl outside, and then Vicky. They had stopped in front of the door of a strip club, with red notices at the right and left of the door. There was a red carpet lying on the floor which looked dusty and dirty, shortly after they were in front of the stage overlooking circular tables and red chairs. Although it was early afternoon, music was playing, and one woman was dancing on the stage wearing only black underwear. She held a red feather scarf and wastrying to provoke the few men’s erotic imagination. Only three tables had men, all around the fifties and sixties age group, they looked unshaved and a little sloppy.
One of the men nudged her forward. Walking amongst the tables Vicky stared over to where a girl entertained a sixty year old man. He was putting his hands all over her body. A shudder ran down her spine. The men lead them to a back door, to a neglected yard when one of the man took the little girl and changed direction. Wild greens interrupted the beauty of the trees and flowers around them.
They went to the house next door. It looked old, the walls were tinged withyellow, and there wereblack signs dotted around. There was a big hall with blue and green with trembling white lines marble floor with a huge wooden door at the end of the hall.
The men threw Vicky in a room with four beds, where a young pubescent girl was crying at the corner of her bed. ‘Why are you crying?’ Vicky asked.
She got no response. Vicky approached the little girl in order to make an effort to comfort her. Shouts were heard and the door slammed opened. Two other men, not the ones that brought Vicky there, were bringing another girl, about early twenties who was like an untamed animal who couldn’t calm down.
‘You motherfucke…’ the girl cried. ‘Let me go.’
‘Shut up,’ said one of the two men.
The girl didn’t stop resisting until a third man came. Holding a wire; he was bigger than the other two, unshaved and was wearing a jockey hat. He had some ugly tattoos on his right hand. He had a slight smile on his face as he whipped the wire across her arm. She cried out in pain, he grabbed a fist full of her hair and dragged her into the bathroom. Then the sound of a whip cracking was heard again, and then silence.
After some minutes the big guy came out of the room, buckling up his pants with a look of gratification on his face. While he was walking in front of the other girls, he ran a hand down Vicky’s chin as she tried to remain still. One of the two men went into the bathroom and brought the girl out.
Mascara ran down her cheeks but she wasn’t crying. The whipping left wealson her arms and legs and blood ranfrom her lip. Vicky was looking at the third man, who seemed kind of different to her. His eyes looked different, his name was Franco, ‘If you need anything, I will be outside,’ he said to the beaten girl.
Vicky trembled. She realised what was happening and there wasnothing that could save her. How could ask for help and from whom? Was anyone looking for her? Had her parents been informed of her abduction? What about her friends? What about Nelly? Questions wouldn’t stop running throughher head. Nelly? Did Nelly hear anything? Did she call the police?
Next day dawned and the girls were sleeping. The twelve year old, Angelica, was sleeping in the same bed as Vicky when the door opened and Franco came in. He had brought some milk and rusks that were quite old. ‘Angelica you go and have a shower, there’s an appointment for you later,’ said Franco. Angelica didn’t move. She looked at him with dark brown eyes which cried from desperation. ‘You have to go now, otherwise you will be late.’ The girl didn’t move again. ‘Go,’ he said trying to imposed but with a soft tone in his voice.
‘I will shower her, you can leave,’ said Vicky. Franco looked atboth of them and left.
Their bathroom seemed old, there was a mirror over the sink, its corners had already debouched rust. Vicky was bathing Angelica when memories popped in her mind.
Her daughter in the tub as an infant, then two year old big and then at the age of five, before the accident.
