One

Lauresse

I am lying on the cold floor, staring at the ceiling; only I can see darkness. No light. Just darkness. And the surrounding was like the cool freezer seeping through my skin deep to my bones. Even my breath was frigid.

Where am I? A choking sound came to my mouth, along with my fresh tears. Death. The only word I am going of my life. I should not leave my hometown and be independent. Perhaps...maybe... indeed...I am not in this situation.

Is it my karma? I don't know, and I'm not that kind of person. I don't step on other people or destroy anyone. But why did I end up here?

Even if I wanted to stand up, I had no strength left. I haven't eaten for two days, and the stinky algae smell of the jail room sickens me. I'd rather die than those people who used my body. I'd instead end my life here. I will hit my head against a hard wall over and over until I know I am dying.

The white fabric of the oversized shirt was the only thing that covered my knee-length nudity. I remember how the old woman insisted on the clothes I should wear. I tried thinking of escaping several times, but how can you escape the square prison I am in? No hope. That's what I am seeing. Hope was inevitable.

I prayed a hundred times in four days. That's what I hope for, at least. That God will listen to my plea and save me from here.

I am so religious and optimistic, but it gradually disappeared as time passed. Last night, I heard a man talking in the hallway. The buyer was coming this day to take us. How many are we? I didn't see the others, but I could hear them asking for help, pleas, and moans of hunger. I was hurt because someone was younger than me. A young girl should be in grade school these days, but here they were taken and like a product selling to the buyer.

Footsteps coming not far from my cell. They were heavy, and I heard some cries from the girls. My heart was pounding as though all my blood had drained from me.

I got up from lying down, my whole body shaking, and tried to walk to the corner. I'd rather die than use my body. Repeated words returned to my mind like a broken plate. My lips shivered, and I inhaled along with my sobs.

Bravery was not what I was. I am so scared that I don't know what to do or think about. My life is doomed now. My parents would have thought I was dead four days ago or ran away with my boyfriend, which does not exist, or I hate them that I don't want to see them. Either way, it hurts so much.

My parents were always right, and I am always wrong. I should have taken their words of wisdom and not my stubbornness. I shouldn't be here. I hated myself for where it settled me. Hating it so much, my hand finger digging into my palm. It's painful, but nothing more after I am taken out of this cell.

My head resting on my arms folded above my knees. I squeezed myself into the corner. That seemed to help hide me from those bad guys. Monsters. That's them. A real monster. Not in the nightmares I had or the fears. But the real monsters were not those entities, the human being.

They could do such a thing to their fellow human beings and have no mercy. My anger fueled up inside me. I wanted to kill them all, their blood in my hand, but I am a rat. In just one snap, I'll be lying on the floor dead or using whatever they want.

Is this how those rats' feelings are being used in the lab? Perhaps, they were scared too, like I am.

The footsteps coming into my cell, and my heart stopped as they halted in front. I only hear my erratic beat. I couldn't breathe, and my head remained bowed. The keys jingle, and the click of the lock.

I'd rather die. I'd rather die...

"Get her," said the guttural voice of a man.

Two hands clutched my shoulders and pulled me upright. I feel like I have lost my voice to speak. One of the men lifted my chin to face those men. My face hardened, and I looked straight at the familiar person besides the grumpy old man with white hair and a stout body wearing a suit and tie. A gold watch on her chubby wrist and his black no, soul eyes inspecting me.

Noticing the slight widening of the young man's eyes. He was surprised I was here. We were not close in high school but were classmates in the fourth year. I know nothing about him except now that he was part of these sick people.

He was wearing a gray suit and a tie that he went to a business usual one. His lush wavy brown short hair, combed with a stoic expression, shows no emotions. Empty like the stout man with him. He was taller than the other man in the cell and stood straight, having those bodies created from gym obsession.

Ashton Sid Del Aveiro.

Is this the kind of life he has? The poorer at least had redemption, but they didn't. I don't take my eyes off him. He will be haunted forever by what he did to me. Or maybe he no longer felt guilty about what he was doing. His heart is callously living a heartless man, like a monster.

The fat man approached. I cringed at the touch of his hand on my jawline and wickedly smiled with his pearly white even teeth.

"You are kind. Did you accept your life?"

I didn't say anything. My eyes remained on the man behind him.

"Pure ones have a high price," he muttered. I inhaled the peppermint from his mouth, knowing it came from girls and women he used to make money.

I suddenly felt sick and wanted to throw it up in the face of the man in front of me.

But I didn't expect it when his hand went down to my neck. I gasped, hand fisted, trying not to cry in front of them. His hand went to my bosom, and I gritted my teeth. I suppressed from kicking him in the groin.

In my mind screaming, kill him...cut his hand...hit his groin...

Feeling his hand go through my stomach and further going down. I can't let him touch me. And my vision blurred as my heart banged into the rib so hard.

I'd rather die.

"Stop, Hernan," a deep low voice came from Ashton. Although, his rugged face shows nothing. He stepped closer and took the hand of the stout man.