(Three months previously)

"ADRIENNE! Where the fuck are you?!" my stepfather bellowed. Regretfully lifting my aching head from my book, I rose & faced my tormentor. If I left him waiting I'd only be beaten harder, raped for longer & insulted louder.

"Yes?" I answered timidly.

"What's this I hear about you asking for a new phone?" he growled. Well, at least he's sober this time.

"My old one broke when I accidentally dropped it from the balcony," the second story of our house had a balcony with a pretty view that I liked to bask in. And drop my gadgets from apparently.

"Well does it look like we have fucking truckloads of money to buy you everything you want, you lazy piece of worthless, floozy crap?" he snarled. I guess he'd drank or gambled away all our money. His comments didn't faze me anymore either, they were not offensive or hurtful, they were accurate depictions of me.

"Well, can I get a job?" I asked hopefully. I would love to earn some of my own money. It would mean I'd be out of the house more.

"You little heifer, you ain't fuckin' leaving this house!" He ranted. Sigh.

"Manny, she can get a job, well partially. And she won't even be away from us for that long!" my mother offered.

"Doing what?" he spat.

"Donating blood. Or any other of her organs."

"Sandra, nobody gets paid for that, dumb bitch!"

She beckoned him over & they whispered for a few minutes while I processed what I just heard. Sell my body? Wow, I always thought that would involve me prostituting myself but this is a whole new level of exploitation. I trudged back to my room unable to hear any more.

∞

"WAKE UP!" Came the crash of voices almost as loud as the banging against my (locked) door. Disorientated, I got out of bed to see what I had done this time.

"Get dressed, we're going out." Manny deadpanned. I daren't ask where to, I just dress and oblige.

We drove for about an hour while I was lost in song.

Eventually we arrived. To what, I didn't know. We were in a decrepit place of sandy nothingness except for an expansive concrete structure that didn't quite deserve the title of building. There was gravel under my feet as I trudged hesitantly towards it, my mother and stepfather walking on either side of me. Probably to stop me from abandoning their plan. I very well could, but I decided a few years ago to stick it out until I was done with high school. I would hone my academic and sporting prowess in order to be offered a university scholarship. If not, then at least I shouldn't find it difficult to get into a tertiary institution. I would move out the day I graduated & get some or other job to pay for my studies. My past & present circumstances don't have to fuck up my future, I refuse to allow them.

We entered the dilapidated one-story concrete slab & I was overwhelmed by the pungent odour of decay, blood & urine. Don't ask me how I knew that it smelt like death, it just did. The scent of our species coming to an undignified end was a demeaning horror I would wish upon no one. Except Manny.

I didn't even have time to ask what the hell we were doing here when a man dressed in stained hospital scrubs approached us & talked mutedly with my mom & Manny. I took the opportunity to really look at the place. And wished I hadn't. There were haphazardly cordoned-off sections, filth adorning many of the surfaces & a few weakly people lying or sitting around. Some with gaping wounds & dead eyes. Others, so thin they would put an anorexic to shame. A few were hooked up to unsterile-looking IVs. There were also a few people striding around that looked like doctors and nurses. What?

Then the reality hit. This was what they were talking about the other day; about me "donating" my organs. Oh fuck.

And in this shit-hole nonetheless. I'm going to die here. I'm going to end up like these poor defeated people lying on the floor. I felt the onset of a panic attack & fought roughly to contain it. I have every right and reason to be anxious but panic won't help me now. I need to be calm & rational if I'm to escape successfully.

I checked that the trio were still conversing & decided that this was as good a time as any to make a beeline for my safety. I dashed swiftly to the door & was about a yard away from my safe haven when something, well someone, as heavy as a boulder tackled me from my left. I went crashing down & bore the brunt of the impact of Manny falling on top of me. I heard a soft crack & knew that I had re-re-fractured my ribs. For fuck's sake! Yet another injury to skirt around during tomorrow's volleyball national championship semi-finals, if I survive to see the morning. My school's senior girls' team had made it this far in the nationals, we were incredibly proud of each other and couldn't afford to falter now. I was an outside hitter & wildly passionate about the game.

I punched Manny in the face when he got up & tried to flee again but was halted by a sting in my left tricep. With alarming speed my body grew sluggish & my limbs felt as though they were moving through cement. My eyelids dropped & I lost consciousness before I'd even hit the ground.

∞

I regained consciousness to find that I was in one of those sealed-off sections of the building, on a flimsy excuse for a bed. There was a tacky IV connected to a random vein in my arm. What have they done to me? Which organ or organs had they taken?! I leaped forward & felt my abdomen. No lacerations, just bruises from my collision with Manny. I breathed a sigh of relief but wondered what they were drugging me with this time in the IV. I looked over at the bag & noticed the contents were of a deep red hue. Weird. Surely they wouldn't try to poison someone whose organs they wanted to steal?

Then I noticed something rather peculiar. The level of the bright red fluid in the bag was rising, not sinking like a normal drip would as the liquid progressively makes its way into the patient's bloodstream.

For the second time that day I had a horrible realization. They were harvesting my blood. I wrenched the IV out of my flesh, ignoring the pain shooting up my arm & flew out of the cubicle. I blindly searched for a way out. Keeping as quiet as I could, I rounded a corner & I caught a glimpse of my mom. The woman had betrayed me yet again. How dare she stay with Manny, who is beyond scum of the earth? And how dare she agree to or even suggest selling my body in this way? I ducked into another one of the makeshift hospital rooms to stay out of sight & nearly gagged. There was a man who appeared to be unconscious in a tub of bloody ice cubes. He looked Hispanic & I wondered what organs they had exploited him for.

That same doctor entered the "room" just then. I had no time to run or hide before he approached & smiled at me warmly. "Hello sweetheart, I see you've met one of our donor projects. What are you doing out of bed? You should be resting," he said in a slow & persuasive voice.

"I'm outta here," I muttered before darting out. I expected him to follow me & pin me down again but felt no restraints as I resumed my mad dash around the premises.

"Adrienne!" My mother cooed when she saw me. Fuck, why can I not just make it out of here?! "How are you feeling, hon?"

"Oh, are we caring suddenly?" I spat back. Her eyes hardened & she slapped me across the face before I could react. My head temporarily felt like exploding & I almost lost my footing before rounding on my mother. These two people might have stolen my thunder & will to live but I will always have a temper on me. This place, the embodiment of suffering itself, somehow only made me that much more determined to survive. Manny decided to show up then. He grabbed me & threw me over his shoulder, kicking & screaming. My cries didn't generate much of a reaction since they merely blended in with the anguished moans of many of the "donors" in the vicinity.

House of Horrors. Yes, that sounded about right, I thought as I was felt dizzy from blood loss & being carried in this position. Manny threw me roughly into the car. I decided then that I would jump out of the moving car later on & run for my life to the nearest police station or whatever. Anything to get away from this. I later reasoned with myself that that wouldn't work. For various reasons. I would still run away, since they had gone too far this time, but I would be prepared. I would gather food, supplies, a first-aid kit, a knife & possibly a gun to protect myself, my belongings, steal money from Manny & my mom, get all my documents together & find the emergency credit card. When I was home alone or something of course. I would then set off to find some low-cost housing scheme & live there while I went to school & found a job to help pay for what I needed. I knew it would be a treacherous life but I had to do it. They had taken enough from me. I wouldn't exactly be able to live with any of my friends since the majority of them were just acquaintances. I never wanted anyone getting too close to me & my scars.

When we arrived home it was almost 11PM. Manny & my mom looked sickeningly pleased with themselves as I collapsed into bed. I assured myself that I would work on my freedom plan tomorrow. Luckily it was still Sunday, so I hadn't missed the volleyball championships.