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D.E.A.T.H Trap

Beth's POV

I lost the count of days since they have locked me up. I heard crying, screaming, whipping. Even gun shoots.

Every person around me looks broken, scared but I feel nothing. Numb. Some of them are kids. Few are pregnant.

When I opened my eyes, I found myself here. I looked for a known face but then I realized Mark sold me and it's a brothel. However, it seems more than brothel to me.

Men around here touches me, but they don't go further. I could identify the lust in their eyes. They must be imagining how to have their ways with me...

“You don't look scared.” A girl said from another cell. Only the bar was separating us, and we both could look at each other.

“I have seen the worst,” I said.

“But you look new.”

“But I am not new.” I studied her, she barely looks 18 years and is heavily pregnant. I was once like her. “How old are you?” I asked.

“I don't know.” She shrugged off. “I remember being 13 when I came here. My stepfather brought me, saying about visiting his family. But it was a lie.”

“How did you survive?”

“Prostitution is not bad once you accept it.” She sighed. “No one wants to be a prostitute.” I could hear her voice that had the layer of courage initially is now shivering.

“I feel the same.” I look at the girl who had the same blue eyes like mine, but we have a different shade. “What will you do with the baby?”

“They will decide.” She sobbed.

I sat there witnessing a young mother crying for her baby. I used to feel the same. Helpless. Not aware of the future of my own baby. She's too young to face this life.

I watched her crying to sleep, without food, but fortuitous, we have proper drinking water supply. I even heard other girls begging to stop, and I am sure that from this night I won't be able to sleep peacefully. Their screams will haunt me throughout my life.

“Bitch.” I felt a punch on my jaw. “You look like a doll.” A drunk man caught my arms and dragged me out of the cell.

“Boss will have her first.” Another man warned him.

“I am not fucking her.” Drunk man threw me harshly on the floor. “I am just tasting her.”

“She seems special to him.” I heard the sober man while trying to crawl away but I failed.

“Just hold her.” Drunk man tied my hands and another man held me tight on the floor.

I screamed when I felt my dress being torn, then he sucked my vagina like a hungry man. I will kill this bastard once I am out.

How is this possible? My mind screamed.

I am special. I replied myself.

I struggled and called for help but everyone hid inside their so-called blanket. They were scared.

He was about to put his hard junior inside my mouth but the other man stopped him.

“She shouldn't smell like you. Boss will know.” He warned him.

“I want to fuck her.” Drunk man argued.

“It means you don't want to live.” Man snapped. “Don't touch her again.”

He grabbed my hair and pulled me inside the cell.

I cried. For me. My life. My dreams. Mark ruined it. I will never forgive him. Not even Antonio.

I should die. I thought.

Next 1 week was the same but the girl beside my cell, whose name I learnt is Hossane, is not getting food. She's not earning anything. She's unwanted due to her pregnancy, as if she got pregnant purposely. These people should have made sure that she doesn't get pregnant. Actually, these people shouldn't push anyone into this business.

I gave her my food. I want her to live and myself to die. From that night, no one has touched me but I do hear other girls, boys. That drunk man rapes girls in front of my cell so that I could witness his plans about me.

“You are special,” Hossane said.

“Yes. Because the worst is waiting for me.”

“Maybe you could allure the boss.” She tried to tease me but failed. “You look beautiful. Like a doll. He might fall for you.”

“I don't want to love.” I snapped. “I want to be respected.”

“Every one of us want that.” She whispered.

Later, Hossane told me that it's not just brothel. It's more than that. Its human trafficking and organ mafia. Girls, boys, that are not needed are either sold to slavery or their organs are sold.


This word had consumed my life.

Later that evening, everyone knew that how I am so-called special to their boss. I will his personal whore.

Hossane told me the tales of his brutality and how he never fears to kill anyone, but he looks opposite to it. He appears devilishly handsome. He even has a young girl who is been trained in how to please him once she reached puberty. They call that little girl his siren. The boss loves young and virgin girl. But somehow, he wants me. Opposite of his taste.

All I want is to escape to start somewhere fresh, without my kids. I won't be able to support them, and they all have a loving father. They will be happier without me. But I do regret not seeing my 2nd child.

Currently, they are taking me to their boss. He is back and wants me.

“Be a good girl.” A maid said. She gave me that sympathize look that everyone is giving me. “He will not hesitate to kill you.” She warned me. “Take bath and doll up for him.”

I did what was told and wore the given dress. He wanted me to look fresh for him, but actually, I was preparing myself to die. I will kill myself. I am not going back to that so-called life, which is full of pain, torture.

I looked for anything that could kill me. Roamed in the bedroom, walk-in closet and even attached library but I found nothing.

Deciding to try my luck for the last time, I went to check in the bathroom. Luckily, I found a razor.

Will it work?

I don't know. But at least I could try.

I made myself comfortable on the bed and was ready to kill myself but I couldn't. Because I saw a frame beside the bed that caught my immediate attention.

It's a photo frame.

A family photos.

A complete family photo.

Now, everything is crystal clear. What happened? Why happened? Who did?

It was all a game.

They all played and I paid.

I will never forgive anyone. They all are sinners. I threw a photo frame on the floor resulting it to break into pieces.

I cried. I need to die.

Nothing was real. I was manipulated. Everybody is a monster.

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