Chapter 1
Dakota
The metal bars dug into my back, creating deep bruises that would never fade. I wanted to stretch out entirely, but that’d never be a possibility for me. Not here, at least.
The lone flickering bulb from the bathroom that was only turned on by a single thick piece of thread, shined into my eyes.
I should be lucky that it was left on this time instead of being kept in the pitch-black like so many other nights. The window that was across the way was covered by not only a black bag but also years of filth. There was only so much sunlight that ever graced this musty basement.
I breathed in through my nose since there was no other way to get the air through my lungs. The rubbery ball attached to the belted gag forced my jaw wide, preventing me from yelling out, although it did nothing to help my situation and screaming inside my head made it ache more.
I ached. My whole body hurt from laying like this for hours on end. Even if I could move to stretch out my legs, I still wouldn’t have been able to gain any space. My feet would touch one end of the cage, and my back and head would be twisted and bent.
I had no idea how long I’d been here. Not just this cage but this basement. This house. Wherever it was, I feared I was going to die.
Alone.
I was no one but a lost soul, never to be heard of or seen again.
Theyknew me. The monsters that never used names and only demanded my services. They knew how to use my body in ways it never should be used. I was beaten and broken and repaired only enough to be pushed back down.
Over and over again
A cold breeze ghosted across my naked form, causing me to jerk, my muscles spasming at the movement.
I was going to die here.
How long would it take for someone to find my cold, rotting body? Would they just throw me away inthe garbage, like the piece of junk I was? Or would they bury me in some random field, where I’d be found years later when there was no longer anybody to be held liable for my demise?
Thoughts of death were always in the back of my mind. It would only take a simple twist of my neck by my captors or rough hands around my throat to permanently eradicate all life forms within me forever.
Heck, the lack of food would be the most likely way I would go. Starved and beaten, covered in bruises from head to toe. Was I even recognizable anymore?
I was nothing now. Nothing but skin and bones and a mindless shell of who I once was.
It hadn’t always been this way. I’d go back without a complaint to the life I had before all of this. I wanted to go back to the time before I was trapped in this cold and drafty basement, and though I had to dig around in dumpsters just to eat, at least I was mostly safe.
Anything was better than this hellhole. I could have done anything to go back to being ignored by those people who have been taking care of me. Eventhe minuscule amount of food I had gotten in the foster homes was so much better than what I was getting here.
Here, I was lucky to get enough food to hold my growling stomach at bay. I had to earn my food, and even then, I wasn’t good enough.
Not for the man in charge here.
Sometimes, I was lucky, though. Sometimes, a gentler man would bring me bread and broth when he shouldn’t. That man, who always had his face covered, was almost kind.
I wanted to laugh, yet no sound came forth. The man in this horrible mess who used me was kind. How could anyone even think that?
I was so messed up.
The days mixed into the nights, and I was worse off. I couldn’t remember things that I should be able to. Like how the sun felt on my skin. Like how a warm shower would feel, washing away the day’s grime.
I couldn’t remember how old I was. Or remember what my parents once looked like.
The one picture that I had of them was long gone. Not that they were great to begin with. Drug addicts who were thrown into jail for robbery. Or at least one was. Who knew where they were now? Wherever they were, they weren’t looking for me. Mom probably won’t remember me if she is still addicted to meth.
My eyes stung as tears refused to fall. I had no extra liquid in me, so there were no longer any tears for my body to shed.
Still, my nose clogged up, making it hard to breathe again. I wanted to wipe the snot that was slowly sliding from my nose. It was impossible to do so with my hands tied to my legs, so I couldn’t try to escape.
