"Life had broken her
but she was still there
persisting
in the shards
of her
broken pieces"

~Atticus

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There were loud voices all around me. Three male voices to be exact. A distant humming in my ears muffled their words, but I could tell from the seriousness in their voices that whatever was being discussed was important.

Though my brain was foggy, I attempted to roll over and open my eyes. Dark shadows loomed from all around me, and I whimpered at the pain in the back of my head as I tried to focus. It felt like I was going to throw up. I couldn't do anything more than dry heave as my senses finally began to work again, and the smell of alcohol and sweat filled my nose.

A sound of disgust sounded from beside me. "That is repulsive."

Disoriented, I turned my head towards the voice but what felt like a boot was placed against the middle of my back. I instantly thought back to Mason's friends. Is that what was happening? Did Mason invite his friends over to take advantage of me while I was knocked out? The thought alone was enough to force my limbs to push against the floor and attempt to knock the foot off of me.

While I was using every last ounce of strength I had, I knew that the person holding me down so casually was much stronger. Someone chuckled at my pathetic attempts as the pressure was slightly raised off of me.

"I guess you've never really changed, huh?" the man stated.

I squinted and blinked, using a hand to gently push aside the hair that was in my face, and attempted to look at the man. The darkness covered the majority of his face, but I spotted a large scar trailing from his temple and down one side of his face. He seemed to follow my gaze, and the pressure was suddenly there again, knocking the breath from my lungs and leaving me wheezing for air.

"What are you looking at, girl?" he growled. More light fell upon his face as he leaned forward, and I tried to squirm away. This man knew that I was terrified of him already.

"Stop. You're going to hurt her further," a new voice said sternly. "What good is she to you injured? Leave her be."

The boot lifted off of me. Finally able to breathe, I focus my attention on the new body that stepped into view. I couldn't manage to reach any higher than his knees. The pain I felt was beginning to overpower me.

How long have I been out? Am I not fully healed already?

There was still dried blood on the back of my head. I could feel it as I tried to secretly move my fingers over the spot, but the pain was barely there. My wrist was no longer hurting, but I knew the majority of my pain was most likely from the bruises around my ribs. I was probably out a day. Two at the latest.

"You've suddenly grown some backbone," scar-face addressed the man beside him, but there was no reply.

Suddenly, Mason's familiar voice growled out in the darkness, and I immediately flinched into the floor. "I don't have all day," he spat, "when will it happen? I'm tired of waiting and I'm tired of this little wench."

His hand grasped a large portion of my hair, lifting my head off of the ground. I grunted in pain and grasped his wrist, attempting to relieve some of the pressure. My gaze fell upon scar-face for the second time, and I froze as he made eye contact with me. I felt like I recognized him. But where had I seen him before? The smile slowly creeping onto his face made my stomach turn, and as he reached his hand out, I flinched back in fear.

Much to my surprise, he ran the back of his hand over my face. I trembled and tried to focus my eyes on anything but him. The man who stood next to him, the one who had defended me, held no expression as he stared down at me.

I could see part of his face now- he had short, dirty blond hair and light green eyes. A small frown came across his face as he tapped his foot in annoyance and turned towards scar-face.

"Mason's right. We can't stay for long," he said quickly.

The hand lightly touching my face twisted and grabbed my jaw. A snarl came from scar-face as he drew closer to me. He was wearing a military uniform, including a tight black shirt with a vest, camouflage pants with black straps all up and down his legs, and thick army boots.

"Listen to me, and listen to me well," he said firmly. His grip tightened and I was forced to look the man right in the eyes. "You belong to me. There will be no place to run, and no place to hide. I am going to take you with me, the last thing I expect is for you to fight back. Do you understand me?"

Eyes wide, I could do nothing but stare at him. What did he mean, I belonged to him? Why would he say something like that to me? Questions swirled through my mind, but I was forcefully yanked from my thoughts as he shook me. It felt as if my jaw would breaks

"Do you understand me?" He growled out.

Tears in my eyes, I attempted to nod my head but he kept me in place. Not only that, but Mason's grip on my hair was beginning to tighten with each passing second.

"Y-yes," I managed to force the word out.

Scar-face smirked. "Good. Now be a good little pet and lay down."

I dropped onto the ground and lay still, happy to be away from him. Mason's grip on my hair disappeared as he began to talk again.

"How much longer?" he asked. There was a hint of disdain in his voice.

"Not too long. I suggest you watch over her for a bit-you've already allowed her to escape more than once," scar-face growled.

"Yeah, yeah, she'll be here when you get back. I'm not too worried about that. When will I get my money?"

Money? It was starting to make sense now. Of course Mason would take the easy way out and sell me to some wacko in a costume. At least, I hoped he was wearing a costume. The idea of being taken away and mistreated by a man of the government was terrifying.

"You'll get your money soon enough. Be patient-"

"I've been patient for seventeen years. I'm not screwing around with you two on this," Mason barked angrily.

The man standing next to me glanced at scar-face, as if waiting for an order. When his boss subtly nodded, the green-eyed bent over quietly and looked down at me.

My eyes were filled with tears then as I thought about the idea of being sold like an item. How could Mason have gone this far? Sure, he was a lousy excuse for a human being, and the farthest thing from a man, but selling me?

Money will push people to do anything, I guess.

"Come on," the man quietly said as he planned his hands under me. I whined quietly in pain, shifting as I was lifted up and into his arms. Despite feeling weak, I pounded one fist into his chest.

"Let go of me!"

That's what I wanted to say.

Instead, a muffled groan escaped my lips as I continued to hit the man on the chest, weakly protesting as he walked forward. We shifted as he took steps up, and I assumed he was taking me to my bedroom.

"No," I grumbled out as he entered my room, laying me onto my mattress. He was surprisingly gentle, but I refused to take note of that as he leaned over my body. A whimper escaped my lips and I pushed at him again as he lifted my shirt up.

"Stop-"

"Would you stop that?" he snapped quietly. His hands gently ran over my ribs, and I flinched at the pain. He then pulled down my pants. My breath hitched in panic.

His hands ran over the soft skin of my left thigh, coming closer and hovering. I could feel his breath on my leg. His hands traveled up and down, blindly feeling around as he aced pressure on random parts of my legs.

Every time I cried out, he mumbled something to himself. After several minutes passed by, he sat up.

"You're malnourished. You won't heal fast enough if you don't eat anything," he said as a matter-of-fact before digging into one of his pockets.

Despite scar-face's appearance, this man was dressed more casually. He wore black pants with several pockets along the sides of his legs, a black t-shirt with the same colored jacket, and military boots.

I couldn't stop the surprised expression that crossed my face as he pulled out a granola bar and grabbed my hand, shoving it into my grasp. I pulled away quickly, but glanced down to inspect the food that he'd given me.

"I wouldn't try anything that will make him mad," he said quietly. Rather than leaving the room, he stood next to the head of the bed and looked towards a wall, as if he was lost in thought.

I opened my mouth and shut it again, feeling like a gaping fish, before stuttering out, "You expect m-me to just wait for you to come back a-and take me away?"

The man sighed and ran one hand down his face. "Unless you're willing to fly away, but I know you better than that- you're too scared to do much of anything."

I wanted to feel offended, but I knew there was truth in his words. All I'd ever felt was fear, whether it was because of Mason or Vince, or even just people in general. Once a person starts to hurt you, you can't help but think everyone is out to get you. And no matter how hard you fight your conscious or dark things, you still find yourself flinching at every movement around you.

I'd tried to be strong. Really, I had. I would fight off Vince's attempts to hurt me and even Mason when he was too drunk out of his mind; but was I a coward because I wouldn't run? Normally, a person would think it was cowardly to run from your problems- but was it because I was too scared to leave, that I stayed and endured this kind of pain?

Was I a coward to stay with Mason? It's not like I hadn't tried to escape before. I had tried flying-

Wait.

I glanced up at the man, who was still standing there patiently, as if waiting for me to finally realize what he had just said.

"How do you know about-"

"Take care Hope," the man gave a small smile and reached over my body one last time. Despite being terrified of having a random man leaning over me, I somehow forced myself not to react as he grasped my blanket in his hand and pulled it over my shivering body.

With that, he turned and began to leave. I hadn't even noticed the yelling coming from downstairs until he opened my door.

"Wait! I don't understand what's going on," I whispered quietly. "Can you at least tell me your name?"

I wasn't sure if he hadn't heard me or if he just ignored my question, but he disappeared out the door without saying anything. I moved to get up but winced in pain.

My mind carried over to the moment he had felt up and down my body to check my injuries, but he hadn't even hurt me, despite my clothes being pulled away.

Still, I knew I couldn't stay there. Mason would most likely try something after they left, but I was too tired to care. Grasping the granola bar in my hand, I simply stared off into the darkness before feeling my eyes grow heavy.

The loud voices were tuned out as I slowly fell asleep, succumbing to darkness

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