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I try to straighten on the bed and I’m sitting now. I tug at the chains, but I quickly realize that won’t help. They’re too thick, gripping at my thin wrists and ankles, offering no means of escape without the key. I’m wearing the same clothes from before, but I’ve been sweating and I can smell myself. I think I even peed myself a little. The thought makes me want to cry, but I don’t. Instead, I bite on my lower lip, trying to displace the pain. A wave of helplessness washes over me and I feel like I’m not only bound, but broken. I doubt I’d be able to walk out of this room, even if I wasn’t chained up.
At that moment, I realize I’m not alone in the room. There is another bed in the corner and another girl sitting on it. She is my mirror image. Chestnut hair, fear in her eyes, chains around her limbs. In every way, she is me and yet, she doesn’t speak to me. She’s obviously been awake longer than I have, but her lips are pressed against each other, almost as if purposefully preventing herself from talking. She is wearing a thin summer dress and I can see a few bruises on her arms. There is also a cut right to the side of her right eye. Someone wiped off the blood while it was still an open wound and the blood is now all dried up. But, that’s the least of her worries.
“Where are we?” I ask, trying to talk to her.
“Shhh!” she hisses at me desperately, lifting her index finger all the way up to her lips. “Don’t talk so loud.” She is whispering and I can barely hear her, but I heed her advice.
There is a door in the far corner and the girl glances over there. She is petrified and it’s starting to rub off on me. I try to remember exactly what happened, but it’s a blur. I have a headache that still isn’t letting go, but slowly it starts coming back to me. Hannah. Coffee. The van. Me passing out. Reality hits me like a ton of bricks and I know enough. I may not know where exactly I am, or who is holding me captive, but I can guess why. My fingers start shaking and my whole body follows this sensation. I’m trembling now and I can’t calm down. My home is so far away now and with every passing moment, it seems further and further away. The image of my mother appears in my mind and a small tear rolls down my face. My mother. Vanessa. Do they know I’m missing? Do they know that something happened to me?
At that moment, the door swings open and the man I recognize as David walks in, carrying two metal plates in his hands and two plastic bottles of water. He doesn’t look at either of us. The girl acknowledges him with outstretched arms. He gives her the plate and the water, then brings the rest to me.
“I’m not hungry,” I manage to whimper, as he places the food and water on the bed, next to me.
“Eat, don’t eat,” he says, shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t care.”
He walks out of the room, without saying anything else. I watch the plate without any appetite. It’s a triangular white bread sandwich and I see some ham and tomatoes peeking from the side. Even if I were hungry, I wouldn’t eat it. But the girl grabs the sandwich and starts stuffing her mouth. She is done in less than a minute. When she finally realizes that I’m looking at her, she looks away, probably feeling self-conscious.
“I’m hungry,” she tells me, as if trying to explain what just happened.
“How long have you been here?” I ask her.
“Three days,” she replies.
“When did I get here?”
“This morning,” she says.
I see she is eyeing the plate of food on my bed.
“Are you gonna eat that?” I hear her ask. I just shake my head. “Slide it over to me.”
I lower the plate onto the floor and do as she instructed. She eats the second sandwich, then gulps down the water.
“I also didn’t eat anything the first day, like you,” she explains again, even though there was no judgment in my eyes. “They don’t care. You heard what that guy said. They’re just here to make sure we don’t escape.”
The word escape echoes in the room, tempting but at the same time, so far away. My chains dangle, reminding me that escape is mission impossible. I remember all those movies I saw, where the heroine pulled out a hairclip and skillfully unchained herself, which allowed her to escape. But this isn’t a movie. And, I’m no heroine. I can’t break free from these chains. The thought bears heavily on my chest and I feel a surge of tears coming on. I just let them flow, silently, without a single sob. The girl notices, but she doesn’t say anything. She is probably all cried out at this point, being here three days already. If there was a way out, she would probably have found it by now.
“What are they going to do to us?” I ask, whimpering, afraid of what the answer might be, but needing to know.
“If they were going to do anything to us, they would have done it by now,” she replies, speaking softly, every once in a while, glancing at the door expecting someone to barge in. “So, I doubt it’s them we need to fear.”
“Then who?”
“Whoever buys us,” she whispers back and I back down in fright.
“Buys us?” I repeat.
“You’re a virgin, right?” she suddenly asks.
“How… how did you know?” I’m shaking at this point and it’s not because I’m cold. I’m frightened. I’m petrified. And, there is no one to turn to, apart from this stranger who is in the same position as I am.
“You applied for a modeling job, right?” she keeps asking, without taking heed of my question. “They brought you in from a small town, making sure to find out all about you in some online interview. Then, you came by bus, this lady met you at some cafe, she spilled your coffee and bought you a new one. You drank it and it all got dark from there,” ending her story, she sighs heavily.
I want to repeat my question, but there’s no point. It’s obvious that this was an elaborate scheme and these people have been scamming girls like us for a while. I ca
n’t believe I’ve been so stupid. Tears start streaming down my face again. I feel even more hopeless now, even more certain that I will never see my family again.
“I heard that they’ll take us to some meeting place and sell us there to some guy.”
