#2 - Nikki Smith

8. The Devil Made Me Do It

            Four months passed much more quickly than I would have guessed. Everything changed after I faked dying of an overdose. Well, everything changed, but it took some time before the change started.

The first two months were pretty much the same routine as before that day. The only difference was that I didn't receive heroin shots as frequently. They gave me a double dose on that day, but they only drugged me every other night at first. Eventually, it was roughly every third night.

I could tell that all the heroin was starting to affect my skin and hair. My hair grew coarse over time and lost some of its blonde color. I also started having ugly red spots on my face, and my skin started to feel greasy and rough. Many of the other girls around here were much worse than I was, though. Years of these conditions deteriorates the body, and I've fortunately only been here just a few months. Still, the fact that there were a lot of bad changes happening to my body scared me.

What drove me the crazy was that I was able to kill off an entire Russian military complex, yet I had not found an opportunity to steal a weapon and kill these guards. I don't know. I think deep-down my fear for the other girls around me is what has kept me from making risky moves. I feel like... to some degree... that I deserve these circumstances. That I need to be punished for my past wrongdoings. After all, I willfully stabbed Nolan right in the stomach and killed off several scientists who probably wouldn't have hurt me. They probably had families waiting for them to come home that night, but they never did.

Was I an evil person for what I had done? After all, there were alternative ways to get off the island without betraying Nolan's trust and physically hurting him. On the other hand, it was what I calculated as the action that led to the greatest chance of both our survivals. What am I to do in these situations? Should I be mad at myself for not breaking out of this place? Should I be mad at myself for my past mistakes? I don't know the answers to these questions, but perhaps the answers will be clear in the future.

For now, the past is the past. I should reflect on the past, but I can't let it weigh me down right now. In the last month, I've really gotten to know two other girls. Candy and Anna gave me the most support over time. Anna was one of the older girls who was in the same room where I had my first "customer."

I didn't have a lot of time to talk to either Candy or Anna, but I took advantage of the time I did have. That was perhaps part of my downfall thus far. At this point, I was allowing my own life to be ruined together with the other girls instead of escaping and leaving them to fend for themselves. If it were two months ago back when I was in Russia, I wouldn't have hesitated to ditch this place and kill everyone along the way.

I've learned so many things from these girls. Well, a lot of it is about sex and drugs, but it was very helpful and useful information, especially for my survival. I learned that I'm still technically a virgin. They say it's probably because I'm still too young to be attracted to most of their "customers." I'm not sure why, but I haven't been requested by another man, and I don't think that one wealthy looking man came back. Or at least he didn't want me again. I am perfectly fine with that. I think some of the girls negotiated with the guards too. None of the girls explicitly said it, but I pick that up in some conversations. That was a big reason why I just couldn't leave them behind. Outside of Nolan, these girls were the first people who actually showed me true compassion. I guess I now know what Nolan was talking about when he said there were good people out there. Who would have thought I would have found them here? In one of the dirtiest and most rotten places on the face of the planet.

I figured something else was going on. Candy and Anna wouldn't be able to bargain or persuade any of the guards under normal circumstances. At best, the guards would laugh and spit in their face at such a request. At worst, the guards would repeatedly hit or kick them in the face for even thinking of such a suggestion. That's how I knew they probably had direct orders from their boss. Apparently when I met him, I had some sort of lasting impression on him. He had some other plans for me... but what exactly was he planning? I was less frequently drugged and not forced to have sex. I mean... I'm not complaining, but... what was going on?