Quick Story

"Sometimes, I feel like I am still ."

My confession caused the therapist to jot down a note on the stupid piece of paper. This is why I don't like therapists, they just sat there and judged you like they knew.

But they don't know, they don't know what it's like.

These were rich people with little problems. They went to Ivy league schools, and there biggest problem at my age was who's party they were going to on Saturday.

I was only twenty, but I had lived a thousand life times. I remember the drugs, the men, the dark places I was dragged to every time we had to relocate.

I had been a sex slave, had given birth twice without a doctor, and had both those children ripped from my arms so that they could suffer lives worse then my own.

I was only nine when they took me. I remember that day so clearly, as if it were yesterday. My older sister Polly took me to the beach. She was supposed to be watching me but a boy had called. She was only sixteen, but boys were her whole world. She sent me away while she flirted. I decided to play in the water, only to have my mouth smothered a few minutes later. The man dragged me to a black van, and somehow, not a single person on the crowded beach noticed.

I remember screaming for days that my family would be looking for me. One day, the man opened door in the darkness and threw a newspaper and flashlight in.

'9 year old, presumed to have drowned in ocean' it read. No one was coming.

He never took back the newspaper or flashlight. He wanted her to be reminded that no one was coming.

"How does that make you feel, Trinity?"

I glared at the pompous asshole in front of me. "The same thing I told you the last three meetings. Trapped!"

No one gets it...