5th February 2012;

The road was bumpy, that's for sure. The whole vehicle shook, almost falling apart. The ride turned out longer than she expected.

Her shoulder itched. Unable to reach it with her tied hands, her chin did the job. Albeit, poorly.

Suddenly, the car jolted to a screeching stop. Her ears bled. "Hey, man. Get the girl from the trunk."

She heard heavy footsteps before a click then she was being hauled out. Dragging her across the uneven ground, pebbles, branches, dirt dug in her skin, clinging to her.

"Laissez-moi, s'il vous plait! Merde. Please. Let me go!" Her fruitless muffled pleas stopped after being thrown against the wall. She groaned.

"Ain't she a firecracker? French people, I tell you."

"Wait till she's tossing in the sheets. Bro, I'll deal with her grumpiness forever if I just get to put my baguette in her croissant." He roared with laughter, slapping the table, at his lame pun.

She tensed, her whimpers intensifying.

His friend rolled his eyes, amusement shining in them. "Shut up, Drew. We'll have to examine her first. Virgins sell out big. Oh, man, we'll make a fortune."

"How do you know?"

"She looks like a prude." Another outburst as they walked out.

Tears wetted her cheeks, dampening the tight blindfold. What did I get myself into?, her body curved into a ball. Well, as much as her bound limbs allowed her to. The last thing she remembers was asking some guy for directions, sharing a cab together and next thing she knows a cloth was pressed to her face.

Later, she woke up in the trunk of some squeaky car.

They could've simply asked her. But, whatever. After the doctor checked her out, much to her discomfort, they confirmed her 'purity'.

Then, they proceeded to taint it with their filth.

Thrown into a world of slavery, trafficking, prostitution, she was too overwhelmed, swamped with immorality and obscenity.

Girls younger, older, of all walks of life, were huddled together. Distraught, dull, lifeless. They'd keep them in one place for a couple of months before moving to another location. Some were bought along the way. Brothels, excited loners, freaks, rich people.

Her lack of curves put her below the food chain. The buyers preferred fuller, thicker, curvier females. At first, she was delighted. Maybe they'd forget about her. But, that didn't last long.

To preserve her virginity, her hymen was left intact. Yet, that didn't stop them. 'Women have two holes for a reason' was the first guy's reasoning before he proceeded to rip her remaining dignity to shreds.

Beads of sweat would mingle with her tears before gliding down her marred skin. She learnt to swallow her pained screams because it either brought more unwelcomed company or fueled them to roughen up their assault.

She considered ending her life, but, couldn't go through with it. Her mom taught her to never give up. So, hoping was all that kept her alive. Fake optimism and false dreams was what kept her shell of existence going.

It was hard to move with abducted girls. So, selling them took time. Auctions were held every New Year's eve for the loaded traffickers to pick a personal toy. This year, she was offered.

They wanted to get rid of her. Plus, she was still a virgin which meant plenty of cash.

Pampering, painting her face, dolling her up in nothing but skimpy lingerie, a satin cloak covered her hair, face and body. It rippled behind her as they towed her out.

Heavy legs dragged on the way to the theatre. Then, she was pushed under the light. It was blinding. He heart was in her throat. Too many people yelling, offering incredulous prices, but all she could hear was ringing in her ear. It got worse when 'sold' was declared, her mind snapping back to reality as they ushered her out to her new chambers.

There she met him. And, right there and then, Eleanor wished she could give up. He was tall, broad shoulders, frightening appearance. He looked too huge; she knew fighting him off was pointless.

She hated herself even more as he tore off the little pieces of clothing she had before raping her, ridding her of the tiniest bit of innocence left. She was his property after all.

After he was done, she was shipped to his mansion. Which was barely inhabited, save for a couple of servants, guards and his wife. The latter didn't even acknowledge them.

Dumbfounded, her mind resorted to indifference, shoulders lifting offhandedly.

Months of forced sex, coaxing her into trying things she didn't know existed, ill-treatment from everyone in the house, including the helps. His wife had her own share of lovers, too. That seemed only fair.

Falling into a routine of him invading her sheets every couple of nights, his partner forcing her to clean, hitting and belittling her, she was losing her last fragment of sanity. The temptation to hang herself was getting more appealing before learning that she was pregnant.

Then, her world stopped. She had to escape.

So, when, a couple of weeks later, a huge fight wreaked havoc in the house, she couldn't help but eavesdrop curious about the courageous soul daring shout at Mark. It was his brother.

So, that's him. She mused, hiding. They didn't resemble each other in any way except the height, hair and skin color. Her heart beat louder as her mind almost burst from anxiety from what she was planning to do.

When Joshua stepped away, fuming, pain lurking in his eyes, courage struck like lightening and she bolted after him. Making sure no one saw, she pulled him inside one of many deserted rooms.

"What the-"

Her hand slapped his mouth, shushing him. "Please. Help me, please." Her urgent whispers caught his attention. "I'm not from here. I'm pregnant." Her hands rubbed her bulging abdomen. "I'm eight months in. Mark bought me. Please, help me escape." She ranted, frenzied rambles, pleading eyes, begging him.

He was silent for twenty heartbeats.

His lips moved and took her a couple of seconds before registering what he'd said. It was his number. "Contact me as soon as you can." And with that he snuck out.

Later that night, when she made sure no one was going to disturb her sheets, she'd stolen one of the maids' phone and texted him. His reply was instant.

After explaining everything to him, he'd agreed to help her with certain instructions to follow.

There was going to be a party hosted by his wife three weeks later. That was her opportunity. Joshua couldn't come get her because if they suspected him, she'd never make it alive. They'll always find her.

The plan was to help her through money. That's all he could offer. Buying people was easy, their loyalty belonging to the highest sum offered. And, that's what he did.

She was locked in her room so the guests wouldn't see her. But, she'd already gotten a spare key. Sneaking out, she sealed it from outside then hurried to the kitchen brimmed with new people, chefs, waiters.

The woman waiting for her ushered her inside a closet and handed her a change of clothes. Then, Eleanor was stuffed in the back of the transporting car. Her heart thudded so hard, she almost fainted.

The next thing she knew, a beat up motel was her new cage for the next week before a text informing her about their next move came. He'd gotten her a new phone.

When the awaited day arrived, she was on her way back from the store. Her water broke; the liquid dripping down her legs.

Waddling inside a battered alley, pained groans tumbled out. Labored breaths filled the empty space as she fumbled with her phone to notify Joshua.

Biting down on her dress, she tucked her cardigan between her legs, cushioning her bum and the new coming fellow, and then focused on putting all of her energy to push.

The contractions were excruciating. Her already heightened stress skyrocketed. It felt like forever before the baby's cry reached her ear.

Joshua stumbled to a stop beside her, sheen of sweat coating his face. Eleanor looked up at him, eyes sparkling. "Aurora," a faint mumble slipped, dizziness settling. "She's my goddess of the dawn." Her gaze moved to the sky as the first rays of light appeared.

He lifted her up, the infant cradled tight to her chest, carrying her to the hospital. A weak smile blossomed at the sight of the little girl. "Aurora, it is."

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