Child begging

I use to live with my friends, with my best friend, Emilian. Sure, we weren't in the best conditions, but at least we were together. Not anymore.


2. Light is darkness

Light is darkness

When I woke, I felt a painful throb on the side of my head were I'd been hit. I couldn't focus properly on my surroundings and my body ached, so I lay still with my eyes closed, listening. I heard voices. They where quiet, but I could tell that they weren't speaking my language. They were men with hard and raspy voices. I didn't like it. They scared me with the sharpness of their accents and the constant clicking like an angry snakes. I wondered what had happened to us. Me and Emilian had heard rumours about raids throughout the month, whole families were going missing, and no one knew where.

My body still hurt, but my vision was clearing. I was lying on ragged wooden floorboards. It was dark, but there was a crack of light not too far away. I was guessing that the weak beam was coming from the room that the voices were in. I watched as the dust danced across the pale light that was draped on the floor in front of me. It calmed me slightly, not much, but a little. At that point I heard footsteps coming towards me. The floor boards creaked bellow their feet. Then the room was flooded with the blinding light, a broad dark figure loomed in the doorway.

"Arh, looks like the wench is awake." The male voice was chick with a Romanian accent.

"Bring her through then Markus!"

Another harsh voice bristled from the neighbouring room. It wasn't as foreign, but it was definitely still Romanian. These men had been taking people from their homes, and they hadn't returned. For weeks I'd been searching for the answer. And now I was in the midst of it... and I was terrified. My thoughts were interrupted as I was wrenched from the ground. His hands were rough and made marks on my skin. My head spun and by stomach ached from hunger and fear. I was dragged into the room full of light. My jaw dropped as I gazed around.

I wasn't in some shack. I was in a huge mansion, the walls were white, the table in the centre of the room had fancy frills and lace on, and there was a huge mirror. The room basked in the soft light from the crystal chandelier in the ceiling. It was beautiful.

"Pretty nice place isn't it?" My gaze dropped. There were three men sitting there. The man at the head of the table smirked. I recognised his voice as the one that had commanded Markus to bring me through. I gulped and nodded. Slowly, he rose from his chair and walked towards me. His movements reminded me strongly of the street cats back home. Slinky and dangerous.

He stood in front of me, his nose inches from mine. He was young, in his mid twenties perhaps with dark hair and tanned skin. Whatever he was doing, he was successful. Flashing his bright white teeth at me, he reached both of his hand out towards me. He rested it on the hip of my torn dress. Without breaking eye contact with me, his fingers trailed down my thigh, then under my skirt and started working their way upwards. I bit my lip. He smirked some more. He pulled at my pants and wriggled his fingers under them.

"Stop it," I said. "I don't like it."

I felt a sharp pain across the side of my face.

"No, I'm your owner now. It doesn't matter what you like. You are going to do what I want, and what I tell you to do. Understand?" He tilted his head to the side, his eyes wide.

I nodded.

Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...