Garang Nyandeng could still not believe how different New York City was as compared to his hometown in South Sudan. Luckily, he could understand English, but the extreme instability of his homeland meant that he was rarely able to attend school. He could not speak any English. Garang still remembered the odd way that the Pepperton Academy presented their offer. One day Garang was just in the market, when an American walked up to him. He offered Garang an opportunity to attend a school in America that would give him necessary skills to succeed in life. Wanting a life like he has seen in the American movies, he agreed. His parents happily supported him. Garang missed his mother and sister, but knew he could trust his friend to protect them. He was determined to make enough money to be able to move all of his friends and family into America, where it was much safer. He was a fanatic believer of the American Dream. Garang stepped off of the elevator, and a helpful guide told him to get a name tag with his place of origin on it. He took the one that said Lakes State, South Sudan, and tried his absolute best to shrink into a corner of the room. He had never been around so many people, except for when militias showed up. Garang waited silently, trying with all his might not to be overwhelmed by his PTSD, when a woman told him to move to another room. He rushed into it, grateful to get into a room with less people. He was in a room with 11 other people, each given a tablet and left alone.
After the message…
Garang gulped hard. His mind instantly focused on a story he had heard of how a group in his hometown had claimed to offer free education for women and girls, and then they were sold as slaves by a militia.
"What the hell? They told us the school was called the Pepperton Academy. What the hell is this 'Corporation?'" A man yelled in an accent that Garang knew from American movies as a southern accent. On his name tag, Virginia, United States.
"Vell, judging by zhe vording, ve have been scammed. Disappointing to say zhe least." Said another man, who was a bit feminine in appearance, whom Garang recognized to be German.
"Oh God, we will all be human trafficked!" Garang shouted in Dinka. The German looked over to him.
"Repeat that slower? I know a bit of Dinka, but your accent is a bit confusing." He said in Dinka.
Garang explained the story to the German, slowly. "What he say?" Someone called.
"He said zhat he's scared zhis ist a human trafficking scam. Apparently, in South Sudan, he's heard of a similar scam and a few days later a bunch of vomen vere being sold. Although I do not like zhis nation very much, I severely doubt that anyzhing like zhat vould ever happen in a first vorld nation." The German said. Garang just nodded his head. I hope he is right. The room got awkward. "Well, I wish I could say it was a pleasure to meet you all, but I'm a terrible liar. I shall return to my home. Farewell." The German walked smoothly up to the door and tried to turn the door handle. It would not. "Ah, of course. Still buying everything from the Chinese, I see. Classy. Nothing against the Chinese of course, I wouldn't make quality products either if I was a child slave." The German once again tries to turn it. He jiggles it a bit. Nothing. "Odd. Perhaps it is one of those doors that just pushes open." He says and pushes against it. He sighs in irritation. He looks over the others, and pulls the man from Virginia over.
"Yeah, most likely some cheap Chinese bullshit. Ya know Trump was kicking their ass for a while. Let me see if I can figure it out." The Virginian says, walking over.
"Wait, I think I got something, hold on." The German said, and the knob turns very slightly, and seconds later sends a jolt of electricity through his hand. He falls back in pain, right onto the American. The German stares at the knob.
"What the hell? Are you alright?" The American asks.
"It… It shocked me. Not just static electricity, mind you." The German, now wide eyed, looks over to Garang. "Don't worry, my uncle runs a very large company in Germany. He'll get us out of this." The German said, frantically dialing the number. Oh God. He drops the phone as he sees that the signal is being blocked. Suddenly the door swings open, and a man in an all black military getup holding an automatic rifle bursts in. The German stands up and points at the man. "You idiot! You're trying to kidnap me? Do you know who I am, you stupid American?!" The man just points the gun at him.
"Shut up kraut." The Man says.
"First of all, this isn't 1945, and second of all, my uncle can pay you however much you want." The German says.
"I said," The man raises his hand and smacks the German in the face, right over his left eye, sending him to the ground. The German clenches his face in pain, as a black eye begins to form, but stays on the ground. "Shut the fuck up. And that goes for everyone here. The Corporation wants you fucks to shut up and go quietly on the transport trucks. If not, we're gonna have a fucking problem." A few people charge at him, and three people are instantly shot and killed. The others, including Garang, all froze in horror. Shit just got real. The German scrambles to stand up, being helped up by the American. The man opens the door on the opposite side of the room, which leads right into the back of a semi truck. The German obediently rushed through it, standing against the far wall of the cargo container, just to get away from that man. Garang blankly follows, his dreams of becoming rich and successful being shattered.