VHope Fluffshots

Slave

I lived a rather sheltered life. I was raised in a wealthy home with my brother, Seokjin, who had gotten married and had a little boy named Namjoon. We were both sheltered by our parents, who never wanted us to become as corrupt as the other wealthy families. On one hand, I was very thankful for that. I'm well-educated, successful with my farm, kind-hearted and caring. I'm very happy, but on the other hand, I wished I could truly understand the horrors of what the lowest class had to endure. I wished I could understand why. 

"Taehyung, you should find yourself a wife," Jin said as we walked through the not-so-busy streets of town. He had been nagging me for five months on the subject. "I know I should, but..." I sighed, kicking a rock as we passed all the shops. "I don't really find women very... appealing." 

Jin frowned at me, hands behind his back as we walked along. "What do you mean? You always flirt with every young lady you pass," he retorted. I dropped my eyes to the ground in shame. "I only do it to make people think I like women. They just... they aren't what I'm interested in." My voice was quiet, but I knew my bother heard me all the same. 

Jin grabbed me by the arm and pulled me a little closer. "Do you like men?" he hissed only loud enough for me to hear. I looked shamefully away from him, nodding guiltily, pulling completely away from him. Jin shook his head, a small chuckle leaving his lips. "Looks like I owe Jimin some money," he huffed and my attention snapped back in his direction. "You bet on my sexuality?" I chuckled, attempting to hit my chaotic brother on the back of his head. 

We came across a tiny building - the last shop in the market strip - with a poorly-constructed sign over the entrance that read Auction. "Auction? What  do you think they're auctioning?" Jin whispered in my ear, eyes trained cautiously on the shop. I shrugged, eyeing the run-down shop apprehensively. "I don't know. Should we... find out?" I suggested. "Maybe," my brother replied. 

It was like we were formulating a type of crime; the ultimate decision was to go in and see what was going on. 

To me, it was a crime. The second we walked through the door, I wanted to leave. 

Young people of all ages, boys and girls, stood on a small platform; none of them had clothes on. They were malnourished and dirty, some of the older girls even pregnant. None of them seemed to be older than me, eighteen at most. 

"What the hell is all of this?" Jin asked me, eyes not leaving the stage. I couldn't look away, either. "I don't know," came my whispered reply, gazing at all the sick, scared faces. They all looked helpless, and I was sure a few of them were wishing for death. I would be, if I was in their place. "Hyung, I don't like this at all," I muttered, blindly finding Jin's bicep to hold. He didn't say anything, but I could tell he was thinking the exact same thing. 

Someone informed us that we had accidentally walked into a slave auction. The slaves being sold were all orphans; the few pregnant girls indeed sold for prostitution. All of them were well-trained to do housework or become farmhands. 

As the auctioneer told us about all the things the kids could do, my eyes kept drifting to a boy in the far corner of the stage. 

He was the smallest - most malnourished, I mean - and probably the most horrified. It was obvious he had been treated the worst out of all the kids on that damn stage. Looking at him made me so sick, but I just couldn't take my eyes away from his shivering form no matter how hard I tried. I had to do something about it or he would surely die. 

"That one." The auctioneer stopped talking and turned to where I was pointing. He made his way over to the poor boy and grabbed his arm, earning a whimper of pain from him. "This one? He's basically useless!" he griped, disgust clear in his voice. I shrugged indifferently. "I don't care. I'll take him off your hands," I reasoned calmly.