Trafficked -- Beaten -- Trapped
When eighteen-year-old Stacy Degray sets off to visit Felipe, a charming guy she met on the internet, she has no idea that she is being lured to his home country Malaguay to be auctioned off as a soldier's bride. All...
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For the next twenty-four hours, I plan my escape. When my mom gets home after spending a night away, she and Dad only yell at each other nonstop, ignoring everything else around them. Sneaking around the house to gather my passport from the study and search though the clean laundry hamper for some suitable clothes is as easy as pie, though I'm still a little iffy about leaving my siblings behind. If Juliet hadn't been the oldest, I'd probably chicken out.
Despite everything going according to plan, I'm sick to my stomach. For the thousandth time, I check the luggage I've been hiding under my bed to ensure I have everything. Doubts well up when my gaze comes to rest on my old teddy bear; just leaving without a peep will be the epitome of disappointment for my parents, but given the current state of our family, I have no other option. They'll freak out if I tell them I'm visiting a guy I met over the internet. Hopefully by the time I come back, they won't be as mad.
Are you all set? Felipe's Skype message tears me from my sullen mood.
The sudden excitement is nerve-racking. How will I get to the airport?
I should've asked him this earlier. The whole sneaking around thing has not only turned my stomach into tight knots but has distracted me enough to not worry about the actual trip.
Don't you have a car?
Nope. My parents never allowed me to get a driver's license. Juliet got hers at the end of her second year in college, and only after she landed a summer internship at a prestigious preschool in Indianapolis that required her to have her own transportation.
Then take a taxi. Do you have enough money for that?
The cash I saved up from graduation is just under $250, which should be enough. Yes.
I'm so nervous, I forget to type a smiley emoji.
I can't wait to see you. He adds enough dancing party-parrot emojis for the both of us.
Me too.
Then until tomorrow afternoon in Quito.
His beaming heart emoji seals the deal. This will be the ultimate trip.
After tossing and turning the whole night without closing my eyes for even a second, I rise at the crack of dawn and get dressed. I decide at the last minute to leave my mom a note on my pillow to avoid her calling the cops when she finds my bed empty. Tiptoeing downstairs with my duffel bag over my shoulder, I hold my breath as I turn the key in the lock. The door swings back without a sound. I glance over my shoulder. The house is eerily quiet and the drum of my racing heart is the only sound in my ears.
Am I really going to do this?
This is insane.
Before I can change my mind, I pull the door closed behind me and rush down the driveway. The cab pulls up to the curb and I wave to avoid the driver honking the horn.
