Azalea

chapter 25~ pictures

Kenji's P.O.V

"Have you ever consumed any kind of drug?" Liam asks her.

"Stop taking pictures," she's been saying since Liam flashed the lights in her eyes.

"Please, I hate it" I actually know that, but what's the reason?

"Not again," she wines in fear.

"I changed my mind. I don't want to be an actress."

"Why did you change it?" I ask. She's panicking and I want to make her change the subject to make her think about something else.

"I don't want to be naked." naked?

"You aren't supposed to be naked in movies, Aza."

"But they undressed me and made me do things."

"How old were you?"

"Young," she says, looking at me with glossy eyes. "I'm hot," she says, starting to take off her hoodie.

Is she wearing something under it? But before I could say anything, she had already undressed herself and was wearing a black top similar to the white ones she had.

"I'm going to rip my hair off," she says, but her hands fell down, not having any strength in them.

I took my hair tight and put it in a ponytail.

I sigh, and now everyone is looking at her scars.

Everyone is confused.

"Why does she have so many?" Owen said.

"Didn't she say she was kidnapped a few years ago?" Theo answers

"She was tortured," Owens eyes widened.

"Guys, I think we should ask her and not make assumptions," I say to them.

~~~
Azalea's P.O.V

"Don't you want to be an actress?" Maxsim says.

And me being six years old, I nod, he smiles like he never does with me, takes me by my hand, and we start to walk.

I look around; I have never been on this street.

"Did you see something you like?" she asks, but I shake my head and say, No.

"If you act good, I will buy you after shooting, okay?" I nod

We walked and stopped at some random tall building.

"Okay, listen," he kneels down. "You can't talk, okay? Just nod and say your name. If they say to do something, you do it without second thought." I nod, smiling and thinking I would actually be an actress.

We walk in and see random people. One of them walks towards my uncle. They nod their heads at each other and then look at me. I smile proudly.

Why proudly? Because I thought I did good to be able to be here.

"Okay, little one, you come with me and your father will wait for us," he smiles, but not in a happy smile—a smile that I haven't seen before. It was strange. Why was he smiling like that, like he had some kind of intention behind it?

We walk to the room, which is located far from the main door. No one is there, but a second later, one more man comes in.

"What's your name?" he asks.

"Azalea," I answer.

"Okay, Azalea, the first thing we need to do is do something with our appearance, okay?" He asks like I actually care what I think.

I nodded, thinking I would be dressed in some kind of big princess dress. What could a 6-year-old think?

He started to 'help' me undressed while the other one was watching me.

"Don't mind him," one who's undressing me says.

I am now fully undressed, only left in my pink underwear. I again look at the other man, and he's staring at my belly.

I wasn't flat, of course. I now know that every kid is built that way, but my 6-year-old self wasn't.

One gave another a hint of something; I was so interested in what it was, but a second later I found out.

I am now on a bad; it's large or I am small, I don't know. I lay there thinking, When will they start to dress me or do anything? The flashlight is already on.

Suddenly I hear the door open and two men coming in. I know one of them; he's the one who was watching me, but I don't know who's the other one.

They get close, and one of them says, 'Don't worry.' He lays behind me. Little did I know that he was there, and I started to resist.

The flash light became lighter and lighter till the point where it didn't feel right, but it was there, so I wouldn't see other men's faces that I didn't know were there.

Not even ten minutes later, here I am sobbing. I beg them to let me go. I sob because of physical pain.

I sob from pain caused by a man holding my hands so tight that blood can't move.

I sob because of the pain that is caused by the man between my legs.

I sob because a man's body is so tight on mine that it can crush a little 6-year-old.

I sob because, even though it's over, I still feel their hands.

And I sob because the flashlights of men taking pictures of me won't stop.