Little Things (Second Chances 1)

I remember what Trish said and follow his directions, opening my mouth. West drops a small blue pill inside and instructs me to swallow it. He then reaches down to my hands and squeezes them. I look at him briefly and catch him smiling softly at me. Realizing he’s been caught, he lets go of me and immediately stalks out of the room.

I walk over and sit in an empty seat and try to relax. All of the other girls are quiet as well, just waiting for the auction to start. A few minutes later, Derrick enters the room. My anger instantly rushes back into me and all I see is red. He glances over at me and winks. I hate that man. He calls the first girl to follow him out into the hallway and I hear a group of men yelling and cheering from the other side of the wall.

My head becomes tingly as my mouth quickly turns dry. I blink my eyes to regain focus, but as I open them again, everything is moving slowly. All of a sudden, I feel like a weight is lifted off my body and I don’t have a care in the world. I feel loose, light-headed, and content with what I have. I feel like I’m in a dream-like state and can’t think of anything to worry me.

Next thing I know, I’m being taken into another room filled with about five or six men. I glance up to see Derrick guiding me through the room. Everything is blurry and the men are moving extremely slow. I feel my legs wobble as Derrick leads me to the front of the gathering. He straps my tied wrists around a post at the front of the room and starts to spit out a stream of numbers. My body sways as I try to focus on what’s happening. I hear a few men shout, “five thousand”, “seven thousand”, and the next shouts, “ten thousand.” Derrick yells out in approval and the man who shouted ten thousand cheers. Derrick grabs hold of me and yanks me out of the room and back into the hallway. As I let him lead me, West stares at us from a distance. His eyes are dark with a hint of anger and his fists clinch. I blink my eyes to allow them to readjust, and when I open them, West is gone.

Derrick leads me to a bedroom and pulls me inside, shutting the door behind him. He unties my wrists and picks me up, laying me on the bed. He bends down to kiss my neck and inhales my scent.

He looks up at me and smiles, “Angel, you are mine. Never forget that.”

He stands up and walks out of the room, locking the door. I glance around the room and see a mix of straps, whips, chains, and ropes resting against the dresser. Daring to get up and walk over to the dresser, I open a drawer and see a cluster of plugs and toys. My stomach churns as I pick up a plug and inspect it. I breathe out loud and pray I have the strength to go through with this.

Putting the plug away, I close the drawer and walk over to the window. I glance into the night sky and the Chicago skyline in the distance. Tears fall freely from my eyes as I rest my hand on the glass. Freedom is so close yet so far away. A few seconds later, a short, bald man enters the room and shuts the door.

He pulls me away from the window and guides me to the bed. He rubs his hand along my cheek and begins to unbuckle my corset. Once he slides it off and sees a black lace bra underneath, his eyes grow wide with excitement as he kicks off his shoes and unbuttons his jeans. My skirt is wiggled off my body, but my heels stay on. Laying me down on the bed, he’s kissing my neck, shoulders, and chest as his cold hands run down my side and across my upper thighs. Taking a moment to climb on top of me, he maneuvers my arms above my head in order to angle my chest toward his face. A sharp pain radiates from my nipple as he bites down through my bra and I sense him getting hard against my thigh.

As he struggles out of his underwear and maneuvers himself into position, I close my eyes and let the numbness enter and consume my soul. As he begins to enter me, I tune everything out and become almost comatose because this is the only way I can get through this. To shut everything off and become completely frozen and lethargic is the only defense I have left. I no longer have the will to fight and live, because in the end, I’ve lost. This is my life.

Duke

Using my iPod, I select Nickelback Radio on Pandora and instantly the song, Far Away starts to play. Of course, this song plays. I have the urge to skip this song, but decide to keep it on as I grab my earphones and plug them in my ears. I head downstairs and out the door for my morning run. As the song plays, I immediately think of her. It’s been three years since her disappearance and I still think about her every day.

My feet slap the concrete as I jog throughout the neighborhood and flashes of her smile appear before me. I picture her dancing along to the song as her body sways to the rhythm. Her long, wavy hair blows in the wind and her beautiful laugh echoes, filling my soul with love.

The thought of her causes the ache to return but I won’t shut them out. The constant ache and turmoil keeps me grounded and determined to find her. I won’t stop looking for her. I will not break my promise to her. I can’t give up. I won’t give up.

I continue my morning run as songs of hope and love fill my ears, bringing her back to me. I make my way toward Pelham Bay Park and decide to run the track, focusing on the finish line as I run in a cross country fashion. Steadying my pace and focusing on my breathing, I run and run for the next thirty minutes. Sweat beads down my face but I keep on going. Determination flows through my body as I set my eyes on the target.

Building up my stamina and exercising my frustration are what keep me centered on the important things—they help me to maintain a sharp focus to the point of no return. All I care about is finding her and keeping her safe. As I run along the tracks, drops of rain fall from the darkened sky. I taper down to a slower pace and glance up at the sky. Shit, it’s about to start pouring.

I hastily make my way out of the park just as it begins to pour. Deciding to take the short cut, I turn the next corner and stop dead in my tracks. A moving truck is parked outside of her old home as movers quickly take furniture into the house. I make my way to the house and remember the last night I was here.

My body cringes as memories from prom night rush back into my mind. I can hear her screams fade into my mind and I try to calm myself down. Breathing in and out, I look around to see if anything has changed. The front door is completely new and the outside has a new coat of paint.

As I look around, someone clears their throat. I spin around to find the new owners staring at me.

The man asks, “Can I help you?”

I laugh shyly, “Sorry, I knew the previous owner and it just brought back a few memories, that’s all.”

The woman walks up to me, “Oh, you did? Do you know where they moved? I found a box full of stuff in one of the upstairs bedrooms. It must have been missed.”

My brow arches, “A box? What was in it?”

She shrugs her shoulders, “It’s filled with a few male clothing items and also some sheets of paper with writing on them. I actually read them and I think they were songs. Whoever wrote them was very talented. I even cried while reading one.”

Hmm, those must be Raya’s songs and her father’s old clothing.

I ask, “Is it possible I can have that box? I’m in the process of trying to locate her.”

The owners look at me puzzled, “Locate her? What happened here?”

I shake my head, “Look, I really don’t want to get into it and you should ask your realtor. Can I have the box? I would really like to have it.”

“Of course, come on in and I’ll get it for you. You shouldn’t be standing out here in the rain anyway.”

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