Set Backs. || PURPLEPHONE

Ileanna (Pt. 1)

((It keeps publishing an old version of this chapter!! UGH!! Wattpad sucks sometimes!!

I am so fED UP WITH WATTPAD RIGHT NOW AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH

Sorry. I had to republish it so it would actually save MmmNNMMmmmM- 

Not a lot is different but I want you guys to read the best version of the chapter, not just settle for second best.))

"I guess I should start from the beginning," Oliver said.

What the hell was happening to him? His heart was pounding hard in his chest as if he was running a race, reverberating through his body. His throat was closing over and his fists clenched.

He'd always planned what he'd say once he decided to tell the person he chose. He'd been planning it out in his head night after sleepless night, had a whole script revised and edited.

And yet, he'd just blurted it out, just like that. He felt like a balloon full of sand that had a cut in it, and the sand was just pouring out with no control. No going back.

Scott was shocked into silence, just standing there gaping at his friend. He stumbled over to the couch and sat down hard.

Oliver took a deep breath, "I'm sure you've heard about the child slave trade in Mexico. I don't really know how old I was, but they tell me I was five, which is why I can only guess that I'm 22 now. I was too young to remember my name or my birthday. I remember my parents saying goodbye to me, promising me they'd be right back, kissing me on the forehead. I remember happily waiting for them to return. Then... I remember big, dark monsters breaking in, putting me in a sack," Oliver shook his head. "Of course, it probably didn't happen like that, but that's just how I remember it."

Scott nodded slightly, unsure of what to say, so he stayed silent.

Oliver shuddered slightly, feeling completely out of control and somewhat numb, like it was someone else's life he was reciting. "I was nobody. I had no name, I had no age. They smuggled me from place to place, they had hordes of other children. They gave us scraps and dirty water for our food and drink. They didn't kill us, no, we were worth too much to them. But they didn't care about us. They put us on public auction in every city we went to, pushing us up in front of the crowd one by one, calling out starting prices. I always thought, back then, that it was the lucky ones who were sold. Adopted, I called it. I thought we were being adopted."

"How... how long were you there for?" Scott asked quietly, his voice hoarse. He couldn't believe it was Oliver they were talking about. He always seemed so carefree.

"Nobody wanted to buy a toddler," Oliver said. "A toddler can't do work for you. A toddler can't clean your dishes and feed the animals. So I was sold to another slave company. That company held me for a year before they, too, realised I wasn't going to be sold. Again, I was transferred to a different company. I kept making friends with the other slave children only to be torn away and taken to a fresh new hell, each of the children becoming more dull-eyed and dirty-faced until I stopped trying to talk to them. I just kept my head down like everybody else until I was finally sold, at twelve years old."

"And... who bought you?" Scott asked. "Were they nice? You know, some kind of... rescue organisation or something?"

Oliver barked a laugh, leaning back, "A rescue organisation? Eso es lindo. There's no such thing as a slave-trade rescue organisation. I was bought by a man I knew only as Señor Santillan. He was a big man with a moustache, kind eyes and a huge smile. I was so excited. I kept saying to him over and over. "Gracias por liberarme! Gracias por liberarme!" Thank you for setting me free!