His Choice

⚜ THREE ⚜

Edited

---(Name this line?)---

10 ten minutes pass until the truck comes to a stop. I am the only one in the truck so I assume we have stopped to pick up more unfortunate souls. The doors open and I close my eyes as the intense light shines inside - blinding me through my eyelids. I hear the men's voices and the screams of about 7 different girls. They are hurdled into the van like cattle and the doors slam shut behind them.

The van quickly fills with futile cries and banging. My eyes readjust to the darkness, a simple roof light flooding in to help me observe my new companions. There are girls of different ages, some older than me yet some younger. My eyes settle on a girl, around my age, with electric blue eyes and long dark brown hair that falls just below her shoulders. Her hair is pulled over her right shoulder and she has two tattoos on her left hand – but it's too dark to make out what they are. I suck in a breath as I instantly recognise her as the tax collector's eldest daughter.

Her eyes lock with mine, but I don't look down. She is much prettier than me and I feel all my insecurities rise within me at that moment, but I refuse to shrink under her gaze. I watch the blue-eyed girl, her eyes never leave mine.

"What are you staring at?" The whole truck is silent. Her voice is harsh and angry. I doubt she's angry at me, but at the situation.

"You," I state back. I'm not a bold character, necessarily, but I am when I need to be like when someone really pisses me off or is clearly wrong. I am broken by this whole you've-be-sold situation already, but I refuse to show that to anyone. So, I've built myself an indestructible 10-foot wall armed with a catastrophic self-defence system. No one is getting to this heart of mine. I've been hurt too much for that.

"Don't look at me, you peasant. That's an honour you can't afford." Is this bitch serious? That's it. This girl is just a bitch, angry that someone sold her off. I would sell her too and she's only spoken to me twice. I simply dismiss her. "You stupid cow, I'm talking to you." I can't believe what I'm hearing. She is actually being serious?

I sigh and close my eyes, resting my head in the corner of the truck - in a futile attempt to drown out her annoying voice.

"I don't listen to whining children," I state simply. I hear her attempt to protest but she is interrupted by another girl.

"Lydia, give it a rest already." Her voice is hoarse and dry, probably from screaming. I keep my eyes closed, my stubborn side taking over.

"You haven't heard the last of me." She hisses at me. I still keep my eyes closed, refusing to back down and let her win. However, it doesn't take long for my exhaustion to catch up with me and pull me into a cold and restless sleep.

♕

I wake to the sound doors opening and the light from a torch stinging my eyes. When my eyes adjust, it's night time. I am gobsmacked when I see The Factory. I've never been this close. Never wanted to be. It's a huge black, dingy-looking building. There are small square windows. Some bordered up. Some smashed out.

We are all dragged out of the truck and instructed to line up. The cold of a winter's night bites at my bare arms. I cross my arms over my chest as we are single filled through the rotting wooden double doors of The Factory and into the immediate hall. There are two sets of stairs following up the wall. One to the upper lever and one to the lower.

"Welcome to The Factory. My name Brian, I am your group leader. So, if you have any problems, you come to me." A deep voice booms around us. It is a different guy – one I haven't seen before. He is ginger, well-built but short. However, he looks like he could knock someone out in an instant. He is also wearing a tartan, light-up Santa hat. "This is your new home, your new life. These four walls will soon become everything to you because there's no escaping them."