I sat alone upon the edge of a building.
My clothes were in tatters.
My smile nonexistent.
I held my stuffed bear close.
I snuggled into Bear's fur. It was the last thing my parents gave me before they died, leaving me to fend for myself.
That was when I was six years old.
I'm twelve now.
I cuddled Bear, sighing before getting off the ledge, climbing down the fire escape.
I rubbed my eyes, yawning as I reached the ground.
I picked up an old blanket and took out the ratty textbook kept inside.
I sat down, starting my self taught lessons again.
I could read, write, do maths.
I knew science, history, things like that.
But I was missing something in my life, something I found that day when I set aside that old book for a break.
I walked away from my little space inside the old abandoned building, in search for food.
I went out farther than usual…
I got lost…
And I didn't have Bear…
I heard shuffling footsteps," Hello?" I called, scared.
I heard a deep chuckle," Cute,"
I turned to see a tall man. I tilted my head to the side," Huh?"
He grabbed my wrist," I said you're cute," he pulled my arm so I stumbled into his chest.
"S-sir? C-could you l-let go p-please?"
"No… I want you," he smirked.
"L-LET ME GO!!!" I yelled, a stutter in my voice.
"Hm… I'll have to clean my whore first,"
"Let go mister!!!" I pulled and pulled, trying to break away from his hold.
I yelped, the sting across my cheek enough to send me to my knees, my arms twisted painfully into the air.
"Don't tell your master what to do slut!"
I whimpered at the pain in my arm, tears falling down my face.
I heard a twig snap.
"WHO'S THERE!?" the man yelled.
A ten year old boy stepped out, his eyes wide and scared," H-he said n-n-no Mister,"
"Well this is my son!!!"
"NO I'M NOT!!! Please!!! You've gotta help me!!!" I can't let it happen again.
Tears fell down my face as I remembered what happened to me when I was just six years old.
I had never felt any lower than I had in that moment.
I hung my head.
"Nevermind, just go…" a sob left my chest as I realized this boy could do nothing to save me.
It was going to happen again.
Once again I was powerless to stop it.
The man yanked my arm and I let out a scream as my arm popped out of socket.
The young boy yelped, running away.
"Good boy…" I whispered softly, seeing him save himself.
I hung my head lower as I was forced to my feet, the pain in my arm giving me no other choice than to follow the man pulling on my injury.
I shook my head.
Why did it have to be this way?
Why did I always end up in these situations?
I was forced into a run down apartment building, shoved past a door.
I whimpered, knowing I was moments away from a repeat of the past.
I was shoved into the bathroom, almost immediately he ripped my shirt from my form.
I cried, I could do nothing as he forcefully washed my body, touching things no one should.
He grabbed my arm, snapping it back in place as I let out a blood curdling scream of pain.
He smacked me again," SHUT UP SLUT!!!"
He threw me over his shoulder and I weakly pounded on his back, only to receive a harsh smack to my behind.
"Don't push it slut, I'll punish you,"
He snatched my wrists, handcuffing me to the bed," Now I have to go… but I'll leave this on you,"
I tried to get away from the pain and the torture of the device he put inside me.
I cried, not wanting this.
"Once I'm gone, it'll turn on, every hour I'm out of this house, it'll go up another level. It has thirty settings, but I don't think you'll last past ten," he smirked, leaving the room.
I swallowed hard, crying in frustration and humiliation.
I jolted, feeling a buzz, I screamed, knowing what he was doing as everything fell into place," HELP SOMEBODY PLEASE HELP ME!!!"
I screamed for hours, I screamed until my throat became raw.
At the end of those hours, everytime I came, it felt like a bullet being fired through me.
I was a sobbing mess, exhausted.
We were at level fifteen.
I was so close to giving up when I heard a loud bang on the door.
"OPEN UP!!! IT'S THE FBI!!!"
My head lolled to the side, not having the strength to even utter a whine.
A few hours ago I had noted that there was a camera pointed towards me, the blinking red light letting me know that he had been filming my torture for his own sick pleasures.
I heard wood splinter and the house being stormed.
"I KNOW YOU'RE IN HERE BRUEGEL!!!"
A whimper slipped past my lips as the door opened to reveal the man that had taken me here.
He glared at me," One word and I'll kill you!!!"
As if I could even speak.
He aimed a gun at me, glaring as he stepped forward, uncuffing me while placing the gun to my head.
He hoisted me up, carrying my light weight, gun still positioned at my head.
The door was kicked down and several men came in with guns.
They saw me and disgust flickered across their faces.
I accepted the fact that I looked like a dirty whore at this point.
"Put the kid down Bruegel!"
"I'm not going back!!! Come any closer, and the boy dies, and he's only twelve. Do you really want the death of a child on your hands?"
I looked down.
I was a pawn.
I heard a gun fire and glass break.
I felt something warm and red splatter across my face as I collapsed, a heavier weight on top of me.
I groaned, my throat screaming in protest.
All I heard was detached chaos… before I blacked out again..