6

Sitting alone in the dingy room has gave me a lot of time to think. I've accepted that my life is most likely over at this point in regards to my freedom. Even if I do survive, I have a feeling that they'll sell me or something like that. No one comes to see me, which I'm grateful for to an extent. I don't have to be manhandled by two guys who take me to another room so I can get screamed at. But at the same time Jill has been nothing but kind to me, which is weird considering my circumstances. She makes me feel a little safer when she's around, but that feeling disappears if she leaves. It makes me feel so vulnerable.  

Being alone also means being stuck with my dark thoughts. What if my family is here? What will they do after not seeing me for five years? They may not have been here physically but they've disrupted my sleep almost every night I've been away from them. I don't think I could handle seeing them again. I'd rather die than be tortured for not doing the smallest things. I can't do that again. I won't do that again.  

Hours pass and I'm getting tired. I don't know what time it is, but I don't want to fall asleep and get yelled at for doing so. Instead, I make my eyes as wide as they can and I start to stare at the wall, hoping to find a distraction from my thoughts. At this rate anything will do. Like imagining a life outside of this prison. Maybe I'd finally get a suitable job and I'd be able to move out of the bad part of town. At my new job I'd meet a guy and he'd be perfect for me. We'd go out on dates and have fun, but we'd be like any normal couple and have fights. But it'll all be worth it because we'd get married. We'd start a family. We'd grow old together in a beautiful home, maybe have a couple pets. But that's all fantasy. My life will never be like that, my life will never be good in any sense.  

The minutes of me staring at the wall feels like hours. No one comes. I don't move. I don't think I've ever stayed in one spot for this long in my life. I haven't even gone to the bathroom yet, but I'm also holding back on that for as long as I can. I don't want to be using it and then two men barge in here in the middle. That will be even more embarrassing than anything yet.

I'm not sure the time still, but I'm starting to get really hungry. My stomach keeps making noises and it's hard to ignore when I've got nothing else to do. So now all my attention has gone to my loud stomach and it's making me hungrier. I should've saved some of the food. I was stupid to eat it all at once.  

For the first time in hours I hear voices outside my room. I sit up straighter and realize it's just some of the men that stand in the hall. I slowly get out of my cot, hoping I don't make too much noise as I walk towards the door. I lean my head against the thick piece of metal in an attempt to hear the men outside.  

"Switch.... boss.... girl.... food."  

I only hear a few words, but I only pay attention to the last word he says. Food. I smile slightly just at the thought that I may get more food. So I hurry back to my cot and just sit there. A few minutes pass and nothing comes, which dampens my mood that was hopeful for the first time since I got here.  

So I decide to quickly use the toilet. I manage to get done with everything, including scrubbing my hands in the small water bucket, without anyone walking in. If this is what my life has come to I'm going to go insane. They might as well send me to an asylum or clinic something like that. It's be one less thing for them to worry about anyway. I feel me being here is a waste of space. I can't give them anything they want, and I just sit in a room all day.  

More hours pass and this time, I begin to fall asleep. I can't keep my eyes open any longer and my body is ready to collapse. So I curl into a ball on the cot and begin to go to sleep.

 ============================  

I'm finishing cleaning the bathroom when I hear the front door open. I cringe knowing that it's my parents coming home after their night out. I tuck away any cleaning supplies that could get in their way before I meet them downstairs.

They are both wasted. My dad has buttons missing from his shirt and mom looks likes a zombie. They both are giggling at each other and whispering things. If they weren't drunk and the people I know them to be they'd look like a cute couple.  

"Oh, here's the bitch," mom snickers when they notice I'm in the same room. "Now that you're here, why don't you grab up some beers. Take them out to the back patio."  

I nod my head and go to the kitchen, grabbing two beers and popping the caps off. I hurry to the back patio and set the two beers on the table before I go back inside. My parents are both sitting on the couch glaring at me.  

"Where's the beer?" Dad snaps.  

"I was told to-"  

"You were told to bring them to us," mom cuts me off. "Get. Them. Now."  

I hurry back outside and grab their beers and take it back to them. They both snatch the bottles out of my hands and mom takes a long sip. Dad takes a large drink before he jerks the bottle away from his mouth and spits the liquid out.  

"What kind of shit is this? It's not even cold!" He slurs and clutches the neck of the bottle. In one swift motion he hurls the bottle at me and it hits me square in the arm, a few shards of glass getting stuck in my skin. I hold back my tears by biting my lip and my parents just laugh. "Clean this shit up. Get me a new beer too. Make sure it's cold!"  

I just nod and go to the kitchen grabbing everything I need before I go back out to the living room. My dad gladly takes the bottle and him and my mom drink their beers happily while I clean his mess, all while having glass stuck in my arm. They don't care about me. They never have. And it shouldn't hurt anymore, but it does because my whole life I've craved their love and affection. Yet all I get is beer bottles thrown at me.  

"You're getting blood on the floor!" Mom yells and I turn my attention to my arm. Sure enough blood is dripping down and hitting the part of the floor I have yet to clean. "God how worthless can one girl be! I mean can she do anything right! Ugh, such a mistake!" Then you should've gotten rid of me when you had the chance, not after I've been living for sixteen years.

I ignore her yelling and begin to clean the floor, and the blood that drips down my arm. I curl my arm up in an attempt to prevent the blood from hitting the floor, but one little drop seems to get away. I feel my parents staring at me but I'm too scared to look up at them.  

"You're to be cleaning the floor! Not making a bigger mess!" I hear my dad's voice boom. I cower down when I hear him get up from the couch. Before I realize it he pushed me and

has kicked my injured arm. I cry out in pain and then I notice my mom has come to join. They both start kicking me while laughing. My body starts to shake from fear and pain. I close my eyes in an attempt to get the torture to stop.  

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I sit up so quickly after waking from my nightmare that my head starts to hurt. Luckily I don't break off in one of my trances and I just sit in my cot, waiting for my headache to subside. I can't do anything about the nightmares and memories of my past. So I try my best to relax and ignore the memories that begin to form in my head.