PROLOGUE
1st Man – Petrified, I’m cowering against a wall in the corner of a tiny room. The room is bare. The only furniture is a bed pushed up against a white wall.
The vile smelling man hovers over me, and spits out, “You think you’re so beautiful, don’t you?” He is red faced, anger vibrating from every pore of his body. “You women are all the same, thinking you're better than me.”
“Please,” I beg, “I just want to go home.” Tears cascade down my face. Fear and torment squeeze at my heart.
SMACK.
My face slams into the wall from his slap and I taste metallic.
The man grabs both my shoulders. My skin slices open from his fingernails digging into my shoulders. He throws me to the bed, I bounce and my hair whips me in the face. The man starts yanking up my dress.
Using my legs and arms I push with all my strength, desperate to get his hands away. “Please don’t do this. I don’t even know you, please. I was kidnapped. I’m not meant to be here!” I end on a hysterical yell. My attempts to stop him are brushed aside, he doesn’t care
He rips off my underwear and I scream at the top of my lungs. I kick out with all my strength, but he pins my legs down and climbs on top. I’m punching him in the chest and the face as he unbuckles his pants and pulls himself through his zipper. Putting a condom on, he then stares down at me. I stop hitting, breathing heavily, waiting for his next move, to start my fight again.
“I’ll teach you for looking at me like I’m ugly, as if I’m not good enough for you.”
My eyes widen. I have no idea what any of his words mean. He’s insane.
He reaches for my wrists and I buck and twist my body. He takes hold of my wrists and pins them tightly together with one hand, squeezing them so hard I feel like he’s breaking my bones with my own. He has me. Pinned down at the legs and wrists. I’m trapped.
He reaches down with his hand not holding my wrists and enters himself inside of me.
I scream the only thing I want in this moment. The only person who has always kept me safe. The man who isn’t here to save me now.
“KANYE!”
***
12th Man - “Fuck, yes! I’m going to fuck you up the ass so fucking hard, you’re going to bleed.”
Standing in the room, sobbing, staring at the excited man standing in front of me, I beg him, “Kill me, please. Just slit my fucking throat!” I end in a scream.
He prowls toward me and says, “Well, well, look what we have here. You’re not quite broken, but you’re close.” He rubs his hands together and hisses, “Get on the bed, face down.”
I shake my head, tasting the salt from my tears as I bite my lip knowing what comes next. He strikes out and I run to the other side of the room before his hit can reach its mark. My face.
“Bitch! Get on the fucking bed!” he roars.
I look around the room wildly, searching for anything to pick up and protect myself with. I’ve done this so many times, now; I don’t know why I keep looking for a weapon I know isn’t in here.
I’m moving side to side as he approaches me. I have no idea what I’m doing or how long I can run for, but I’m not giving up.
He reaches for me again and I run to the other side of the room.
He turns and walks halfway to me. Then I see it; in his arms and legs, he tenses. He sprints toward me and I run around him, but his arm reaches out and catches my elbow. I’m pulled back with so much force; I’m brought to the ground with a hard hit to my head.
Instantly, he’s on top of me and begins ripping my dress off.
RIP.
The shoulder straps are torn away.
RIP.
The dress is yanked down my body. He doesn’t even bother with the zipper. The whole dress is wrenched away. He pulls my underwear off and I know what will happen now.
No matter how hard I fight or how much I beg, it always ends the same way.
My body tenses as I wait for the bugs to start crawling over my skin, and as it begins, I do the same thing I have always done. I call out to the man I’m still waiting to come and save me.
“KANYE!”
***
24th Man – “Sit on the bed,” the man says, not looking at me as he unties his shoes and takes his socks off.
I numbly walk to the bed and sit. This man doesn’t seem like the others. He’s calm and distant. All the others look at me like I’m an animal to be tortured and killed. You can see the excitement in their eyes. This man hasn’t looked at me once. I glance down at him, he appears to be mid-thirties, with brown hair and dark blonde highlights and a strong build. Dare I say, he almost resembles a gentlemen.
I stand and take a step toward him. This never works, but my heart and soul refuse to give up, as proof to the words I’m about to say.
“I need help. I was kidnapped. I have a family, a boyfriend. They all probably think I’m dead. Can you help me escape? Please, I need help,” I plead; only a sliver of hope enters my words.
The man looks up to me and my body stills; a shiver races down my spine. He smiles at me. A bone chilling, evil smile. He stands and walks toward me. I back up three steps, but freeze when he stops advancing on me.
“Emily, Emily, Emily.”
He repeats my name while waving his finger back and forth in front of me.
“I just found you. You aren’t going anywhere.”
His hand swings out as fast as lightning and grabs me around the throat. I gasp and try to pry his hands away from my neck.
I can’t breathe. I can’t swallow. Panic explodes in my chest.
“I should introduce myself. My name is Donovan. We are going to get to know each other very well, Emily. I’m going to be at every party and I’m going to buy you every time. You’re now my new toy. I’m going to bring you to near death, and then I’m going to fuck you stupid. Marco may own you, but I will be your master in this room, once a month.”
The room spins and my arms go slack. His grip around my throat eases. He lets me go just as quickly as he grabbed me. My knees hit the floor, hard. My hands saving me from face planting the floor. Chest rising and falling rapidly, my throat is dry, each breath in stings. Air has never tasted so good before.
“Undress and lay on the fucking bed or I will really show you how much I hate disobedience.”
I rise to my feet on shaky legs and walk to the bed and undress.
“You will learn, Emily, you are a worthless piece-of-shit whore, who is lucky to be able to take my cock. No one else will buy you because they can see how dirty you are. They can see how used up you are.”
I don’t just hear his words I feel them; they slice through me like newly sharpened swords slicing open your opponent in a battle arena. They stick to my soul and I know they are going to stay there until they seep deep inside and scar me, marring me forever.
I lie on the bed and wait for the inevitable. I don’t fight and I don’t scream. I learned a while ago, screaming his name doesn’t help me. He doesn’t hear my cries and he’s not coming to save me. Even thinking about him has my body shaking with memories of a life I no longer have. A life I will never get back. So I shut him out and all the memories and feelings with him. Darkness and nightmares are my future now.
***
38th Time – I’m escorted into the room and find Donovan sitting on the bed loosening his tie. The door shuts and locks behind me. Exactly the same thing happens every time and has been happening for the last five years. Although in the past few years, these nights have gone from once a month to one every three months. Donovan is always in a foul mood when it’s been longer than one month.
Donovan stands from the bed, frustration coating his features. “Another three fucking months, Emily. What the fuck is Marco doing with you all in that time? If I find out he’s selling you to other men, I will fucking kill the bastard.”
God, he’s so full of shit. I wish he would do it, just kill Marco.
I appease Donovan, knowing a calm Donovan is mildly better than an enraged one.
“No, he’s not. We stay at his private house and don’t leave. People are following him now more than ever and he’s paranoid. The only reason why he had a party tonight was because a new collection piece was added.”
Lily, the new girl. She’s strong. Just like I was.
HIT
Donovan backhands me and my head swings to the right. If I said I was shocked, I would be lying. Hitting and choking are Donovan’s favorite things. Years ago, I would have cowered and cried. Now, I turn my head back toward him and wipe the blood off my lip with my thumb.
“As if you would tell me the truth, you fucking whore. You worthless piece of shit. As if any other man would want you anyway. You’re fucking sloppy hundreds now.”
His words pierce through my numb exterior for only a second before I shut my feelings down and I walk around him and start undressing. I lie on the bed and wait for the inescapable. The same thing that always happens. I sense the sadness and fear vibrate through my body, but have long ago stopped listening to it. This is my life, my never-ending nightmare.