Once A Fighter

Chapter 11

Ria's P.O.V-

It was the middle of the night and I didn't expect to wake anybody up when I started rifling through every drawer in the house to find my files. I was on my third room, a secluded, cluttered office, when I heard footsteps walking down the hallway. Frantically I shuffled as many papers together and attempted to put them back where I found them. 

The steps passed and disappeared around a corner, so I decided to continue. There was nothing. I sighed in frustration. Where the hell could they be? I alread checked Josh, Sam, and Zach's office, with no avail. All that's left was Matthew's, but his office was connected to his room, therefore making it almost impossible. 

I decided to try anyways.

I crept down the hall a little bit, as silent as possible, then down the stairs. I stood in front of Matthew's cracked open door, and took a deep breath. It creaked slightly when I opened it and I flinched, but Matthew did not.

One of the perks of being a former fighter is that I'm light on my feet, and I made it across his room without a single noise. His office door had been left open, along with a light being on. I smiled to myself, it was almost too easy. 

His office was by far the neatest, and most organized.There wasn't anything personal in it, unlike the others. Only a desk with a chair, and a lot of filing cabinets occupied the room. I checked his desk drawers first, but they were almost empty. I remembered to peek out the door every once in a while to make sure he wasn't stirring.

Next I checked one of the filing cabinets, and there it was! Ria Jackson. I pulled our the manilla folder and put it on the ground next to me, and then found Levi's and decided to read his first. I skimmed it at first, finding a picture of him as a baby, being held by my mother. She was so far away in my mind, but seeing this picture, wow. She was so beautiful, with long curly hair, similar to Levi's. She was smiling down at his little body, holding him and looking so proud. Another picture was of him a little older, right before my father killed my mother and sold us. He was sitting in a highchair and my father knelt next to him laughing. 

When I began to read about Levi, it seemed completely unnecessary. I already knew everything about him. His age, his weight, his eye color, whatever. But as I kept reading I started to find out that on the days that the men kept me quarantined in the building with the other women, they did things to Levi, too. They hurt him. The hair on the back of my neck stood up and I clenched my fists and gritted my teeth, trying not to throw the papers in front of me. 

Those men that I thought were keeping him safe and only hurting me, they beat him, they tied him up and tortured him and that's why I wasn't allowed to see him for a few days, so it would give his wounds time to heal. I started to cry, softly, gently, but when I saw the first tear land on my father's smiling face, it seemed as though they might never stop.

For so long, I thought I was doing the right thing, sacrificing myself so he'd be okay. But for years it was a lost cause. My breath started coming short and I clutched the picture of my mom and Levi to my chest and layed down, resting my head on the hardwood floor and closing my eyes, imagining a time when nothing was broken.

I don't know how long I layed there, but eventually I remembered that I had another file to read; mine. I picked it up and tried to catch my breath and compose myself. Nobody knows me better than I do, I thought. Nothing in this file will say anything I don't already know, I told myself.

I opened it and the first thing I saw was a picture of me as a young girl, playing in the sandbox on a sunny day. My hair was in pigtails and I was smiling, one of my teeth were missing. The next picture was of my father and I at a father/daughter dance when I was 7. I remembered it clearly, dressing up and my mom letting me wear blush. A picture after that was of me, but I almost didn't recognize myself. I was chained, naked to a pole. I shuddered, remembering what that felt like, to be exposed and unable to do anything. In this picture, it looked like one of the times they had to drug me so I'd cooperate and my eyes were half closed. My body cut and bruised and bleeding. There were beer bottles littered around my feet. Looking at this picture, I felt nothing. No pain, no anger, just numbness.

I put the pictures down and began to read. "Ria Jackson was sold into sex-slavery at the age of 11. Her brother was used as a pawn to keep her cooperating. Ria experienced rape almost daily, and other forms of physical abuse, including punching, kicking, cutting, burning, tazing, slapping. Emotional abuse occured as well. The men would say things such as "I own you." "You are nothing." "Your family does not love you, you have nobody now." She could be locked up for weeks at a time, with very little food or water. Ria was neglected. She now suffers from sever psychological damage; depression, anxiety, night terrors, and anger management issues."

I looked through more pictures; most of them were me almost completely naked and covered in marks. One of the pictures was of the shed in which they kept me for long periods of time when I wouldn't cooperate. My stomach flipped over when I saw the old blanket I slept on, sweat on, bled on. The only thing that kept me warm on cold nights. I felt bile rise in my throat when I saw the chains on the walls that bound my wrists. Before I could leave the room, I turned to my left and started vomiting up every last thing in my stomach and I couldn't stop.

I sobbed, I screamed, I shook. Iknew it would wake Matthew, and probably everyone else. But at that moment it seemed as though everything that I knew about that place reentered my head and was there permanently, etched behind my eyes. Those pictures...

Sam's P.O.V.-

I woke up again, to the sound of a girl screaming, but this time it came from what sounded like Matthew's room. I sprinted down the hall, with Josh right on my heels. Matthew hadn't even woken up, but I saw Ria on her knees in his office. I screamed and shook Matt while Josh went in by her. I followed him.

Ria sat there, sobbing and clutching papers and pictures, surrounded by her own vomit. Her entire body was shaking. Matthew came up next to me and when he saw the scene splayed in front of us yelled, "Fuck!" 

"What's going on?" A small voice asked. We all turned and saw a wide-eyed Levi standing in Matthew's doorway.

"I'll take care of him." Josh offered as he walked towards Levi and took his hand. They exited the room.

"Ria," I knelt down next to her, "talk to us. Please." She just kept rocking back and forth, clutching pictures to her chest.

"Go get Zach." I told Matthew. He nodded and stumbled out the door.

"Can I see what you've got in your hand?" I asked her. I looked at the folders on the ground and knew immediately what was in her hand. She kept shaking her head and wouldn't even open her eyes.

Zach burst through the door, and immediately assessed the situation. He pushed me out of the way and studied Ria as best as he could. "Go start a cold shower." He instructed Matthew. "Sam, stay with me and help me get her up."

Matthew left once again and Zach spoke gently to her, "Give me the pictures Ria, we'll talk about them. You don't have to go through this alone, alright?" He reached for the pictures grasped in her hand but she refused to let go. I don't even think she knew we were here.

"Help me carry her to the bathroom." We got up and each grabbed one of her arms and hoisted her up. Her body was stiff and rigid and refused to cooperate. She was cold and sweating and full of vomit, but even so, I offered to carry her. Zach nodded and I scooped her into my arms and was surprised when her body relaxed. Zach was not.

"Go dude! She's going into shock! Get her into the shower!' I ran down the hall as fast as I could with her in my arms. Matthew stood there with the shower going and he helped me set her in the tub as gently as possible. Ria's eyes flew open as the cold water hit her skin. She dropped the pictures and tried to climb out but Zach and I held her in place. I felt her body shiver and shake under my hands, and she started to scream and curse at us. I was about to give in when Zach said that this was good, that she was talking and coherent. 

Soon, she stopped fighting, and the water gradually became warmer and she sat there, still fully clothed, with her knees up to her chest. A picture of what looked like her brother and mother floated around. 

I didn't realize I was crying until I turned to look at Matthew, only to see that he was too.