Little Things (Second Chances 1)

“You have a friend in here, right?”

My eyes grow wide, “Yes. Layla. Did you meet her? Is she alright?”

Trish sighs, “If you want to help her, then you need to surrender. Derrick sees something in you so he won’t hurt you, but her…he’ll go after your friend.”

Tears spill down my face and Trish wipes them away.

“Now, first thing’s first, we need to sling your shoulder and get you all cleaned up.”

She reaches over to my chains, unlocks them, and caresses my bruised wrists. Walking over to the dresser, she takes out a white robe and walks back to the bed. She sits on the bed next to me and helps me sit up. My body screams in pain and my legs shake uncontrollably.

She slowly wraps the robe around my naked body and pulls me up steadily to stand next to her. I grab hold of her as my footing is a little shaky. Glancing at the bed behind me, there are blood stains on the bed sheets and I cringe.

“I’m sorry you had to go through all of that on your first night. Derrick is an asshole and gets what he wants.”

I shake my head, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Last night is the last thing I want to talk or even think about. A person should never have to go through what I experienced last night. I briefly remember begging the men to just knock me out, but they relished in seeing my agony firsthand.

A glimpse of last night flashes into my mind, I’m bound to the bed, duct tape conceals my screams, and I hear the heinous laughs of three men.

I shake off the memory and focus on Trish. She notices that I’m distressed and squeezes me tightly, guides me to the door, and slowly pulls it open. Two other girls are standing on the other side and they reach out to grab hold of me. My nerves creep back up as I look at Trish and realize she’s holding a needle.

I quickly try to escape their grasps but my body is too weak to fight. My breathing spikes as Trish approaches me with the needle in hand.

I beg, “Trish, don’t.”

Trish hushes me, “This will ease your pain and keep you sedated. We can’t have you running out of here.”

The needle stabs into my arm and I wince at the slight pinch. Once the injection in complete, she removes the needle and gives it to one of the girls holding me. Trish then wraps my good arm around her neck and leads me into the hallway.

A few seconds later, my head begins to spin and everything becomes blurry. My body feels light and the pain is completely gone. I can’t even feel my legs; everything is mush. My head bobs as I struggle to keep it upright. With my eyes growing heavier by the second, my focus is no longer clear. Everything around me goes white as Trish’s whispers fade away.

For the next two weeks, Trish shows me how to survive. I learn the process of the bidding for girls and what the highest bidder usually requires. She brings me more clothes and teaches me the proper dress code—a short mini that shows my legs, a low cut sleeveless blouse, and stilettos to attract the right attention.

My shoulder is almost healed, surprisingly. In the past two weeks, she’s visited me every day and took care of my wounds. She even helped me bathe and fed me while I was too weak to move. I haven’t seen Layla, which worries me, but Trish says she’s fine. I don’t believe her since she’s Derrick’s pet, but I can’t help but hold on to hope.

Some days, I hope Layla found a way out and she went to the authorities. I catch myself thinking that maybe I’ll get out of this hell hole. But who am I kidding? No one will probably even notice I’m gone. Everyone that matters to me is in another state.

Derrick and his men haven’t visited me, either. Trish said it’s because I need to prepare for my first auction. I’ve seen them lurking through the dark corridors, but no one’s approached me or even spoken to me. At times, once I felt I had my strength back, I wanted to fight my way out, but then Layla’s life would be in danger, so I’ve always stopped myself from busting out of here.

As I think about the possibilities of what’s next, Trish enters my room, carrying a basket full of items. She places them on the dresser and heads back into the hallway, only to return with another basket.

Walking over to the dresser, I pick out a few items from the basket—a new comforter, candles, body oils, towels, and wash cloths. I peek into the second basket and it’s filled with new clothing.

I turn to Trish, “What’s all this for?”

“Tonight is your first auction. I need to liven up your room and you need to get ready. We have to make you look absolutely exquisite so everyone will want to bid on you.”

My body starts to immediately tremble, “Tonight? I thought I had more time.”

She shakes her head and walks over to my mattress to change the sheets. “Derrick wants you up there tonight. He says you’re ready. Honestly he just wants to show off his new prize.”

My breath catches and my lungs constrict with nerves, “I don’t think I can do this.”

I lean up against the dresser to steady my balance. There’s a small mirror in the basket and I look at my own reflection. It’s been weeks since I’ve looked at myself. What I see is a stranger staring at me. Her face is slender with full, pouty lips and stunning blue eyes, but her smile is hidden. Her eyes speak grief and hopelessness. I see tears fill her eyes and rain down her silky cheeks. A slight bruise around her left eye is shadowed in the reflection and I reach up to touch it.

I see another bruise around my neck as I look closely. It’s an imprint of hands. I wince at the sudden touch and have the urge to launch the small mirror across the room. Trish walks up behind me and releases the mirror from my grasp.