I lean back against the wall and stare at the ceiling. I used to think my life was a prison, but it wasn’t as bad as this. Sure, my father is a controlling piece of shit that beats me when I step out of line, but I could manage that. I wasn’t allowed to go to college, but a lot of people don’t go. Father expects me to marry the son of one of his business contacts one day, like some kind of political marriage, but I guess that isn’t happening anymore.
Maybe he doesn’t care that I’m gone. Maybe he’s going to leave me here to rot. He’d probably whip me for getting taken, anyway, find a way to blame me. I’m probably spoiled good now, though I don’t think anyone has touched me.
The sound of footsteps in the hallway outside my cell pulls me from my thoughts. I sit up expectantly, hoping that today the bald man will give me something new, something different. Maybe he’ll give me a sign and tell me what he wants from me.
The slot in the door opens. Instead of breakfast coming through, he pushes a bundle of clothing.
“Put it on,” he says simply.
“What is it?” I ask.
“Dress. Now. Or I’ll hurt you.” The slot closes.
I lean forward and pick up the bundle. To my horror, I realize that it’s an old lingerie set.
I stare at its revealing lace and want to vomit, but there’s nothing left inside of me to vomit. Slowly I stand, trying not to cry, and I take off my clothes. When I’m finished, I pull on the lingerie.
It’s too small, but I manage to get it on. You can practically see my nipples through the sheer cloth and I’m terrified, so absolutely afraid of what they’re going to do to me. I sit back down and cover myself with my old clothes, holding back the tears. I have to be strong right now.
I suspect things are going to get worse for me soon. If I can’t handle this, I won’t be able to handle what’s coming. I need to be strong, or else they’re going to break me and I’ll lose whatever is left of myself. I can’t let that happen.
I take a deep, sharp breath. I have to survive this. I haven’t been able to live my life yet. I went from the prison of my father’s house to this prison, all because I wanted to enjoy one night of freedom.
I won’t back down. Not yet.
After a few minutes, the footsteps return. Instead of the slot opening, though, the door itself slides across. Standing there is the bald man.
“Get up,” he says.
I rise slowly. He grabs the clothes from my hands and throws them on the floor. He grabs my elbow and pulls me from the cell, shoving me into the corridor.
I blink and stare at the other girls lined up there. I had no clue there were other girls in this place. I never heard a single sound the whole time I was locked up. The girls all range in ages, and they look as afraid as I do. Some look like they were beaten a lot more than I was, which frightens me. Obviously these men are capable of more. I got off easy so far.
“If you speak, I will cut out your tongue. Then we’ll sell you to the Chinese to work as a mute slave until you die.” He says it loud enough for everyone to hear, but he’s looking right at me.
I nod, not wanting to risk responding. He shoves me into line with the other girls. We avoid each other’s gaze as the bald man crosses his arms and looks at us.
“You’re a sorry fucking bunch,” he says. “If you want to survive, you’ll do as you’re told. Now come.” He turns and we begin to follow him in a single file line.
For a second, I wonder why we’re not trying to attack him. But then I see the gun in his pants, and I know he’d kill most of us. Maybe all of us. And he can’t be alone. We’re a bunch of scared, mostly-naked women, and they have guns. We’d get killed without a doubt.
And I want to survive this. I can get through it.
We follow the man down a series of halls. There are other guards posted at various places, but they don’t pay us much attention. Finally, the bald man opens a door and ushers us into a room. He lines us up with our backs to the wall. The room is long and thin, empty save for a mirror on the opposite wall.
“Stand where you are. Face the mirror. If you move, you will be shot. You know what will happen if you speak.” The bald man disappears from the room and shuts the door behind him.
We stand there and we don’t move. I don’t even look away from the mirror. I stare at it, and in the very dim light, I stare back at myself.
I look horrible. I looked tired and scared and underfed. I look like the other girls, though not as beaten and broken.
I can hear the other girls breathing near me, but I don’t dare look at them. We’re a bunch of strangers standing in this room, mostly naked, waiting for something to happen. I’m terrified, and my heart is beating through my chest, but I’m determined. If I play by the rules, maybe they’ll let me live. Maybe I can get through this.