It's a sunny morning, light filtering in and spotlighting the millions of band posters covering your walls. You adjust your binder in the mirror, listening idly to the noises in the kitchen filtering from downstairs. Ten siblings, one tired mother. Being the oldest you helped out quite a bit, working 5 jobs and selling art online. Your mother calls for you and you perk up, throwing a flannel on over your binder.
As you descend down the steps the sounds get louder, chatter filling your ears. It was a bit grating, but nothing you weren't already used to.
"Y/N, Morning, can you come with me for a moment?" Your mother asks, a weary smile gracing her face. Something was off, she almost seemed relieved.
"Uh, yeah, course mom,"
You follow her to your home's doorway where she fixes your hair and tries fruitlessly to brush the wrinkles from your shirt. You frown but let her do her thing.
"I hate to lose you Y/N but we're so low on money I-"
The doorbell rings and you look up, realization dawning. You were being sold.
"Mom, you can't be serious,"
"You're almost 18 anyways! Please darling understand," She looks desperate. You shudder. You don't want to be owned by anyone, you had plans of moving far away from this place, somewhere where no one knew who you were before the you you are now.
You swallow instead of answer and open the door, coming face to face with a tall older man in a three piece suit. You narrow your eyes, you swear you've seen him before. He holds out a hand to you.
"Dr. Lecter, a pleasure to meet you,"
Your eyes widen as you take his hand. Hannibal Lecter. The Hannibal Lecter? Your fight or flight responses rage on inside your chest. He shouldn't be real, he was a fictional character.
"Aren't they adorable? Honey go pack your bags I'm going to talk to the Doctor about the details,"
You hesitate, then walk back until you feel safe enough to turn around and run up the stairs to your room. You grab an old backpack covered in pins and pile in your art supplies, cds and comics following. Your copy of Hannibal Rising ominously looms from where it sits upon your bookshelf, mocking you. Your hazel eyes linger on it before you pull the backpack up onto your shoulders and leave. What Hannibal could want with you was beyond you. Food maybe? Meat? You were skinny, casualty of being poor, you wouldn't make a good meal. You find your mother talking to him at the bottom of the stairs, nodding along to everything he said. The Doctor slipped her an envelope then looked up at you, it seemed as though he knew you'd been watching.
"C'mon Y/N we have a busy day," He called, fixing his tie before holding a hand out to you. You slowly met him and got close enough to take it. You realize you hadn't said a word since you opened the door, you didn't know if you could find the strength.
"Well go on honey!" Your mom insisted anxiously. You gulped and stepped down the final step, crossed the finish line. Your life had come to an end, you were sure of it. At least the life you'd been living until now.
