(FOUR YEARS AND SIX MONTHS LATER)
"Isn't it nice to think that tomorrow is a new day with no mistakes in it yet?" ― L.M. Montgomery
WARNING: MENTIONS OF ABUSE!
AVA'S P.O.V.
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Harry, my section head, poked his head through the string curtain.
His beady eyes narrowed as he scanned the full room and when they caught mine, he yelled, "Hey, move it, Queen! You've got two solos, 15 and 45!".
Glaring back and forth between all of us, he kissed his teeth, annoyance contorting his face as he pulled back.
The long, beaded strings clinked back together and swayed like palm branches in the wind.
"Does he always have to yell?" Guila snapped her gum. She tucked her copper-red hair behind her ear.
Lucia lowered herself into her lap and giggled. "He thinks we're suckers for his whiny voice."
"Tch, he wishes."
"Who goes around looking like that anyway?" Jasmine chimed in.
She wasn't wrong.
Harry was in charge of our section but he didn't look the part.
Other section heads pranced around like manicured cats tucked in a silk or muslin -a two or three-breast suit on a very good sales day-, dozens of rings on their fingers, gold in their teeth, and their heads held high.
Harry looked like he worked a nine-to-five with no pay.
His brown hair was always too long, his skin was always dry and his nails always looked uneven like he started biting them and stopped halfway.
So it didn't make any sense how his teeth always managed to look clean.
I turned my attention back to what I was doing before he came in.
Increasing my speed, I quickly finished off the tip of Andia's corn roll -so she could comfortably pull her wig on- and jumped down from the shaky table ten of us managed to occupy, to run after Harry to my first customer for the afternoon.
When I got to the hallway, he was already at the other end.
I rushed to catch up.
He peered at me from the corner of his eye when I joined him but didn't say a thing. As we walked past a few doors, a couple of yelps and cries rang out into the hallway.
I spared the blue door on my right glance just when someone cried out loud, the yelp followed by a hard thwack shortly after.
Harry chuckled. I flinched.
Poor girl.
As of now, neither of us had any idea where we were or which country we were in. There wasn't any need for it.
After we'd been locked into the trailer, we'd counted to 180 hours in the dark but then collapsed from heat and exhaustion before we landed wherever we were.
Even then, we'd still spent a couple more hours in the trailer before we were released to see the sun again.
When the doors had groaned open, men swarmed in like flies and each of us had been blindfolded and led into this building.
Since then, survival had been the only thing on our minds.
I could still remember my first year here like it was yesterday. It could only be described in one word:
Torture.
Complete and absolute torture.
We'd been separated into random groups and a tag went around each of our wrists. After the pieces of cloth had been taken over our eyes, we huddled together, checking to make sure everyone was alive and safe.
No one could say anything that would soothe any of us; we were all scared and lost.
We needed comfort but there was no one to offer it.
Half of us had been shaking and crying, scared to be outside our safe and familiar zone and frightened of what we were going to be forced to do.
I'd rubbed my arms.
Would mama and daddy notice that I was gone?
Will someone come for us?
People had definitely realised that we were missing, right? The guards should have already been dispatched.
They'll come to save us…
Right?
After a couple of minutes, we noticed we weren't alone.
Across us, another group of girls was led in, their eyes blindfolded, jaws trembling, and uniform intact as well.
Their school emblem was a bull with Latin written under it. I didn't recognise the school.
My friends and I had stood in silence, watching as the strange men did the same to them, slapped tags around their wrists, and removed the blindfolds.
After they were done, they'd pushed us together, mixing us together with the other girls and putting us into another set of groups.
Then a man with a plain mask stood before us. He was tall in a white shirt with grey slacks.
He climbed the elevated ground and crossed his arms over his broad chest.
"Welcome to the Tower." He announced. "I know none of you actually feel welcome but I suggest you do because you're not leaving here until you've either been bought or are in a body bag."
Andia had burst into silent tears and gripped my arm tight.
He went on. "You don't deserve to know my name yet but I'm here to oversee everything you do. You can say that you all belong to this institution, and not yourselves anymore. Make yourselves at home, but remember that there are rules. You can never leave this place of your own will, you will serve and satisfy all our customers and you will attend all the classes that will be held to help you do that. But before then, you'll have to undergo tests to determine which section you'll be placed under."
A group of men and women in dark clothes stepped forward from behind Stan as he explained. "These will be your section heads and they'll be in charge of your initial tests. You're no longer going to have your luxury lifestyle and things will not be done at your will but since the world isn't fair, you could always find your way around a customer or section head, if you're brave enough, to have some things done your way."
We'd stared at him, frustration and pain balling in our throats as he declared the end of our lives as we knew it.
"Now, begin."
Then the section heads advanced on us and sent us to separate rooms. We were made to line up and were forced in one by one.
The man's voice resounded as we were dragged away. "Smile, girls, you've got yourselves some bragging rights and superiority. You're our very first batch to be here."
Harry was my appointed section head and I'd been the first one to enter the dark room. Granted, my first time with him almost killed me but unfortunately, practice does make perfect.
Since then, we've been trained on how to treat clients, loaned or sold to various junkies and billionaires around the world, and assessed monthly on our progress and health.
It was exactly what it looked like.
Yes, this was sex trafficking.