“You’ve gotta get up soon sweetheart,” my mother’s voice said softly beside me. I grumbled incoherently, keeping my eyes closed and turning over away from her. She sighed, reaching out and stroking my brown hair softly. She was quiet for a few moments and I could feel her hand trembling, her breathing shaky. She was taking this hard.
“Charles will be back soon,” she whispered, barely audible but I flinched as his name escaped her lips. “You know what will happen if you’re still in bed when he returns.”
“Maybe it’s for the best. Maybe he’ll kill me and get it over with,” I mumbled. My mom sobbed loudly upon my words, losing the composure she was fighting hard to keep. I sighed loudly and mumbled a quick apology, not wanting to upset her.
I pulled myself up into a sitting position and glanced over at her. She was sitting on the floor beside the mattress we slept on. Our room was a sectioned off loft on the top of a barn—the same barn I’d been born in—and was a few feet from the house. The room itself was about 6.5 feet high and about 10 feet by 10 feet. It was small, for sure, but there was a large window that took up nearly the entire wall that made it appear to be more open.
My moms face was swollen, her cheeks streaked with tears and eyes bloodshot. I had to look away quickly, unable to bear it.
Charles Swan, the man whose blood pumped in my veins and whose DNA I shared, left two nights ago for a business trip to speak to a 'potential buyer'. He went away often for that reason, as he not only sold real estate as a front but he ran a significant identity theft and forgery ring, but I wasn’t fooled. I knew what he was off selling right now—Me. I’d overheard him and his wife discussing me a week ago. She told him she wanted me gone and I suspect she was insinuating he murder me, but he instead decided I’d be sold. He told her he could get a good bit of money for me and said he had someone in mind that was looking. He was due to return this morning.
I was frightened, there was no doubt about it. I had no idea what the future held, where I’d be sent to and what situation I’d be put into. I’d also never been away from my mother and that was what scared me the most.
I don’t have a lot of life experience. I can count the number of times I’d been off of the Swan family property in my entire life on my fingers. I’ve never had a chance to socialize and can probably name every person I’ve ever met off the top of my head. I’ve only ever met one person my age and that was a slave Charles bought last year. She had been here for a little over a week when she tried to escape. He caught her a mile down the road and dragged her back, pulling her into the house by her hair. He beat her to death right in front of me and left her lying on the floor for hours. I was forced to clean up the blood and bits of flesh embedded into the wooden floor after he finally removed her body. It was gruesome and made me vomit—I’d gotten a pretty bad beating for that.
And besides Charles and his father, I’d never actually spoken to another man before. I didn’t remember much of Charles’s father, he was rarely around, and Charles had always been cold toward me. All of the slaves here were female, and when visitors came we were kept locked away. Men frightened me--they were foreign, unknown. I'd gotten plenty of glimpses of other men, the ones paid to stand guard around the perimeter of the property, but I'd never had any interaction with them. The only ones who interacted with the guards were the one's who were stupid enough to try to flee. They weren't always out there and you couldn't always see them when they were, but you always knew there was a chance that you were being watched by someone in the shadows. It was like they were taunting us, letting us know that technically slipping away undetected was possible, you just never knew when. It was gambling with your life and very few were willing to take that risk. The ones who did always failed.
“I’m up,” I muttered eventually. I climbed up from the mattress and walked over to the dresser, grabbing whatever was on top. All of my clothes were old and tattered, hand-me-downs that were my mothers when she grew up.
I put on a white shirt that was covered in stains and slipped on a pair of jeans. They were worn and faded, holes worn into both knees and the bottoms frayed. I didn’t have any shoes, hadn’t had any in years. My feet were rough, the skin thickened and tough from going barefoot. It didn’t bother me anymore, I could step on a nail and it probably wouldn’t even register.
My mom walked up behind me with a comb and started running it through my hair, trying to get the knots out. It was fruitless… It desperately needed a good washing. She gave up after a minute, grabbing a rubber band and pulling it back.
I heard the sound of a car coming up the driveway and my heart started racing. I was frozen in spot, frightened. My mom dashed to the widow, glancing out. Her eyes were wide, her expression panicked. She knew just as well as I did that my time was running short—she knew where Charles had gone.
The car came to a stop in front of the house, the engine cutting off. I heard a car door slam shut and listened intently, waiting to hear any sign of someone being with him.
“He’s alone,” my mom said, sounding pleased. I exhaled loudly, realizing I had been holding my breath. She turned and smiled lightly at me, her expression relieved. She walked to me quickly, pulling me into a hug and squeezing tightly. “Maybe he changed his mind.”
I laughed bitterly. “Yeah, right.”
She sighed, pulling out of the hug and grabbing my hand. “Don’t give up hope Isabella,” she said sternly.
I nodded, more to appease her than anything. She didn’t need to know that I’d given up hope a long time ago when I realized that an entire world existed beyond ours—a world I knew very little of.
We started for the door, wanting to get over to the house to greet Charles before he decided to come looking for us, when the sound of gravel crunching and the light purr of an engine registered with our ears, indicating a car was coming up the driveway. My head snapped toward my mom quickly, fear and panic written all over my face. Her expression matched mine.
“Isabella!!!” Charles yelled from the house. “Get your ass in here now!”
I was shaking lightly, more scared now than ever before. My mom tried to smile, obviously wanting to comfort me, but it came off looking like a grimace.
“Come on,” she said softly, leading me out of the room and down the stairs. We headed into the back of the house and Charles was standing in the foyer, gazing out the front door. He heard us coming and glanced in our direction.
“Did I call for you Renee?” he asked, his tone sharp. My mom froze in spot, glancing between Charles and I quickly.
“I just thought…” she started.
“You aren’t here to think. Get your ass upstairs to my room, we’ll deal with you later.”
My mom nodded and tried to let go of my hand, but I clutched onto it tightly. She sighed, using her other hand to pry my fingers away. “It’ll be okay sunshine, don’t worry. Just listen to Charles and be on your best behavior.”
I nodded and she leaned over to kiss my cheek lightly before retreating up the stairs. Charles shot me a pointed look and I walked the last few steps into the foyer. I stared down at the ground, shaking with fear and chewing on my bottom lip trying to keep my composure.
The front door opened and I heard a man speaking instantly. His voice was smooth and slightly soft, the exact opposite of Charles’s. I glanced up in their direction and nearly gasped at the sight of him. He was fairly tall, with bright blonde hair that was slicked back and sparkling blue eyes. He was wearing an expensive looking suit and was talking into a cell phone. He was staring right at me and raised his eyebrows questioningly when he saw me looking at him. I felt fear shoot through me, afraid of what his reaction meant, unsure if he’d be upset that I had looked at him. Charles tended to punish us if he caught us staring at him. I blushed, embarrassed, and stared back down at the floor.
The man continued to talk on his phone—he was talking about some shipment coming in somewhere. He hadn’t spoken to either Charles or I, not even really acknowledging us. After a few minutes I peeked back up and saw Charles standing across the room, looking almost as nervous as me. My brow furrowed in confusion, as I’d never seen him like that before. Charles was always in control, never off his game. But now… now he looked rattled. He kept glancing over at the blonde haired man nervously, his eyes darting down toward the floor.
Even more fear rocked me as I realized that Charles was afraid of the man. It was written all over his face.
The blonde haired man finally told whomever he was speaking to that he had to go and snapped his phone shut.
All was completely silent then, the only sound I could hear was the blood pumping through my body furiously. I stood frozen in spot, afraid to move.
“She looks horrible,” the man said after a moment, his voice oozing disgust. My eyes widened, his words hurting. I’d had pretty much every insult imaginable thrown at me from Charles and his wife and I usually shrugged it off, but something about this virtual stranger cracked my tough exterior.
“I know she’s not the greatest looking girl…” Charles started, but the blonde haired man cut him off.
“I didn’t say she was ugly,” he said sharply. Charles stopped speaking abruptly. “But she does look horrible. You’ve got money, you can’t afford to dish out a few bucks on a decent outfit or a pair of shoes for the child? Christ, look how tore up her feet are!”
“I, uh… well…” Charles mumbled. I peeked up at saw the blonde haired man staring at me. My eyes met his and a slight smile crept onto his lips.
I looked back down after a second, eye contact with him being slightly uncomfortable. I wasn’t used to it, the scrutiny of his gaze causing me to fidget.
“How much?” he asked after a moment.
“Well I was hoping to get one for her,” Charles said. The blonde haired man laughed.
“One, eh? When’s the last time the girl had a good scrubbing?”
“750?” Charles asked, his voice hopeful. “I mean, she’s still a virgin.”
The blonde haired man was quiet. I didn’t dare look up but I could feel his gaze, could sense him staring at me. My heart was racing wildly at the mention of my virginity, fear rocking me. The only knowledge of sex I had is what the women around here mentioned. I’d seen Charles have sex with my mother before, have heard them more times than I could count, and I remember clearly her crying afterwards, completely disgusted. Sex in my eyes was nothing but a repulsive form of punishment.
I glanced up again eventually, the silence wearing me down. My eyes met his again and he raised his eyebrows questioningly, so I looked away quickly, chewing on my lip nervously.
“She can’t even keep eye contact with me. There’s no way that’ll fly at my house,” he said, finally breaking the silence.
“Girl,” Charles said sharply. My head shot up and I looked at the blonde haired man, making sure to make eye contact. The last thing I wanted to do was infuriate Charles, as a beating would make this day worse than it already was.
“Sorry Master Charles,” I said softly. The blonde-haired man smiled after a moment, cocking his head to the side and eyeing me up. He finally nodded.
“She’s got potential. I’ll give you 500.”
Charles frowned. “With her age and virginity, I could get a lot more for her from the auction.” My eyes widened at the mention of the auction. I knew from the others that girls who were bought and sold at the action were typically turned into sex slaves and prostitutes, whereas people occasionally got lucky in private sales.
The blonde haired man smiled. “Possibly, but she isn’t worth that much for what I want her for. It’s evident she’s not used to being around people, you said she can’t even read or write.”
I finally broke eye contact at his mention of reading and writing, glancing back down at the ground. Charles didn’t know, but I had learned the basics of both over the years. The other slaves taught me what they knew, which wasn’t much, and the rest I picked up on my own over time. Charles’s wife had a habit of watching TV with the closed captioning on, which helped a lot. I’d been blessed with an amazing memory and it had all come pretty naturally to me. It was kept a secret though, because an educated slave was typically viewed as a more dangerous slave.
“She’s a damn good worker, can cook and clean with the best of them.” Charles mumbled. “Obedient. Worth every penny of 750.”
“I can tell. Did you chip her?”
“No, never had a reason to. She’s been here since the day she was born, never showed any indication of thinking about leaving.”
My brow furrowed in confusion. Chipped?
“650, and that’s my final offer. I’ll have to have her chipped and it’s evident you have nothing for the child, so I’m going to have to shell out the money to get her set up properly.”
Charles was quiet for a moment. “You’ve got a deal,” he finally said."
