CARTER

III

I hear this voice booming in the cell I was in. It was quiet and yet every word he said was heavyweight, authoritative. It made me back down. "Blue eyes, a pretty face, nice round tits... and she's shy about herself." The guy in the red mask, his gaze on my hands holding on to the shirt of my scrubs makes him snort with laughter "True." The authoritative voice booms again "I'd say we're gonna get lucky tonight." I cry, begging the voice "Please. You can take all the money I own. You can even take whatever you want. Just let me go. Please!" The voice chuckled and the chuckle was dark, it felt like spiders crawling up my body "I need something else from you." I sniff "Anything." The voice says "Don't give me that freedom, Lilly," I cower back the way he used my name. The two syllables of my name in his mouth gave me goosebumps "or I'll be greedy." I stay quiet. Pressing my tongue between my teeth on purpose.

He asks "Who do you work for?" I reply with a cry "Saint Johns hospital. I started there three years ago." His voice becomes impatient this time "Who do you work for?" I cry again "Under Doctor Emmett Lloyd." I say it again "I work in Saint Johns hospital under Doctor Emmett Lloyd." His voice has a bite to it "Don't think for one second think that you can lie to me! Who do you work for?" I cry again "Saint John's hospital. Doctor Emmett Lloyd." The guy in the red mask says "Capo, this bitch isn't going to be easy to crack. I think we should let her see the fate she's gonna be pushed into before asking questions." The voice says "Portala al tubo (Take her to the tube.)"

The red mask guy grabs me by my arm and picks me up, pulling me outside the cell. I shout and beg them to stop. I don't know where they were gonna take me. A bedroom? A coffin? A closet? I don't know and I didn't want to leave this cell. I cry so loud but the red mask guy just hisses "Shut up!" And pulls me easily outside the cell.
A black cloth is wrapped around my sight and I'm being dragged out. My mind wouldn't even calm down enough to know the route they were going but I could hear the noises. From the silence in the cell, I'm met with little noises of chips. Like casino chips or maybe something else. And then I smell strawberries and hear the laughter of women and men. Then the smell of cigarettes and the smell of musk and perfumes hits me. There were people here. I cry out "Help me! Please, help me!"

I noticed the floor. It changed from rough concretes to carpets. I hardly walked because I was mostly being dragged. I held my hands together, holding myself and I comply with them. I had to. To save my life- or to try to save my life- I had to.

I almost stumble but I'm being picked up and by the way the weights shift in the air, I knew I was being held up the stairs. Then someone pulls the crocs from my feet and then I'm set down harshly. My hair tie is pulled from my hair, my sweater is being pulled off my shoulder. Oh god, this is it. I'm going to be raped. This is it. Something I've heard since I was a girl. It's happening. My fears are getting to me.

At the last second, the blindfold is being pulled off my eyes but I'm pushed inside something instantly. The door closes and my eyes adjust to the blazing lights. With my hand, I block it out and look up to the sounds of whistles and hoots. The sounds of men shouting "That one is mine! Better keep your dicks in your pants because mine is gonna be inside her tonight!" Then sudden booms of laughter from every corner.

I realize I was behind a glass, locked in it. I stand up but it wasn't just glass. Something circle. Something like a tube. I was inside it. Standing in it. Bare feet. Hair open. Only in my purple scrubs. That's it. And in front were people. Sitting at expensive white clothed tables. People clad in expensive suits with cigars between their teeth. Gorgeous girls in sparkling gowns sitting beside them, tending to them. No matter the age. Some of the suits had men beside them. Men sitting in their laps, flirting with them. Smiling at them. Women in suits with young girls in their laps. Smiling at each other. Tending to each other. My breathing goes ballistic.
I knew I was gonna end up in panic attacks. I bang on the glass with my fists and cry "Help! Please, help me! Help!" They just laughed at me. One or two had their eyes on me. They knew I was crying and screaming but they didn't care. They just either smiled or laughed. Some even mocked me for crying and screaming. The waiters that served drinks or food never once looked at me. Not even once.