6
David called, offering me shelter.
I refused.
I couldn’t trust him.
He was Lily’s boyfriend; who knew what trap
awaited?
I found cheap motels, but the owners,
recognizing me, threw me out.
Finally, I found refuge under a bridge.
That night, a torrential downpour started. I
huddled, hugging my knees, my tears dried
- up.
<
At five, I felt equally helpless.
Lost, I cried for my mom. A woman offered to
help me find my family.
I believed her, but was sold to a poor, rural
couple.
I ate pig feed, slept on a hard board, wore
patched clothes.
I worked from dawn till dusk: chopping wood,
herding cattle, feeding pigs, washing clothes,
cooking…
Disobedience meant beatings. They were
merciless.
At seventeen, they took me to the village
chief’s house.
The chief was pleased. I was to marry his
mentally disabled son.
I refused, only to be beaten again.
Just as I despaired, John and Sarah
appeared.
Though years had passed. I recognized them.
Trame, weeping and
embracing me.
I cried into her embrace, smelling the familiar
scent I only dreamed of.
John paid the couple, and we went home.
He explained what happened.
They never stopped searching.
They posted flyers, ran TV ads, used online search engines, even hired private
investigators.
They spent countless resources to find me.
Finally, they succeeded.
Sarah held me tight.
She wanted to make up for lost time.
“Rachel, your siblings have been waiting for
you.”
“Don’t be afraid. They’ll treat you well.”
“Especially Lily. She missed you, thinking
about you in her dreams.”
I nodded, hugging her back.
I thought I’d escaped hell.
But my nightmare was Lily…
As I reminisced, some rough–looking men
entered the underpass.
Seeing their menacing gaze, I stepped back,
asking what they wanted.
The leader, a man with a thick beard, leered,
“Pretty girl. Come play with us.
“”
I resisted, but they overpowered me.
They began to undress me.
I begged, struggled, cried, but they didn’t
stop.
As I despaired, a spotlight shone on the
underpass, sirens wailing in the distance.
The men panicked, fleeing.
