Sixteen.

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The room was dark and cold and my breath was visible.  I could physically feel the dirt invading my lungs and making it difficult for me the breathe. The locks around my wrist dug into my skin, no doubt causing it to bruise. Blood tricked down my cheek from an exposed cut above my brow. The air stunk. I was in a compressed chamber with about ten other young teenage girls, somewhere in the middle of Ireland.

I struggled with my locks. Every time I tried pulling on them they only seemed to get tighter. My headache grew worse every time I exerted some force.

"Stop that. You're gonna make them come back in here. You're being too loud." One of them said. Her voice was horsed from dehydration.

"We've got to get out here." I told them. I tried looking for Anna, Emily, and Rachel. Three of the girls I was sent on this mission with. But none of them were with me. I was sixteen and alone in the middle of Ireland with a group of girls who are being sold for sex trafficking.

"We can't get out." Another one hissed at me. Her face was so dirty, I couldn't even make out her facial features. "I've read about these people before. They never mess up."

"They already have." I told her. I couldn't see her reaction. It was too dark.

Just like they warned me, the metal door was ripped open. The light behind the shadow of a man was blinding. Some girls squealed, others turned their head to hide from the light.

"You." He pointed at me. His face was pressed into a scowl, scarred and dirty. His brown eyes were as dark as his heart and he smelled strongly of cigarette smoke. "Come with me."

He yanked on my arm to stand me upright. I stumbled on my feet - my legs felt like jelly and my head felt weightless. I even had to blink away the dots that formed in my vision.

"No." I tried punching him, fighting him off so I could escape. But I was too young, too weak. He overpowered me. I was so light, he could flick me in the forehead with his thumb and I'd probably fall over. When was the last time that I ate?

He punched me in the face, right under my eye. Not only was the impact hard, but the ring he was wearing scraped me up pretty good too. My vision blurred. I was so out of it, I can't even remember hitting the floor.

"No." I said again. I was trying to fight off unconsciousness. I felt it approaching and my stomach twisted in knots. Sick. I was going to be sick.

Suddenly the room around me froze. My peripheral vision slurred together and became blurry. The only thing I could see was the man standing above me. But he was different now. He changed into a suit and had his hair gelled back. He twisted the buttons on the collar of his sleeves and smirked down at me. This man was now my father.

"Stupid. Stupid. Stupid little girl." He said. He bent down to come closer to my face. I cringed underneath him. My heart picked up its pace and my mouth became dry. What was happening? "You expect to save all these people when you can't even save yourself? And you blame that on me?"

"This is all y-your fault." I croaked and then went off in a coughing fit.

"No," he shook his head. "My only fault is letting you join the agency and not making Louis do it first. Maybe if you were a better agent, your life would be different."

The girl from the chamber was suddenly standing next to my dad. Her wrists were unbound and her head was tilted to look down at me.

"I told you to stop making noise." She said. Her voice was monotoned. "You didn't listen. You got us killed!"

Agent Kelly TomlinsonWhere stories live. Discover now