His Rose: 4

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جنت على نفسها براقش الجهل شر الأصحاب
Ignorance is the most terrible acquaintance

Rose

He grips me hard, pushing me down the hall—making me stumble down onto the ground. I look around at my surroundings, realising that I don't know where I am nor do I remember what happened before. My eyes widen once I see men holding their guns as they look down at me; their faces held no emotion.

Darkness is all I see.

My head is throbbing with unbearable pain as my vision prevents me from seeing things too clearly. All of a sudden, I feel someone holding my chin up and I come face to face with a middle-aged man who eyes my features endlessly. Who is he? I blankly stare at him.

''She looks young, where did you find her?'' He looks up at one of his men.

''Down the street. Someone probably left her there.'' Someone answers.

The middle-aged man looks at me once more, softly caressing the side of my cheek, ''She'll be good, one day.'' He whispers into my ear before picking me up—taking my weaken body out of the room. Then, all types of whispers come rushing in my ears; it is as if I'm passing through time.

Darkness is all I see.

Blinking, I find myself on the ground, my elbows supporting my weight as someone shouts at me from behind. My eyes are filled with tears as my back burns in pain, ''You're a fucking bitch, you should remember who brought you in!'' He shouts louder, this time he grabs onto my hair, pulling my head back—making me cry in pain.

To my surprise, he slaps me across the face before kicking my abdomen in anger. All I can sense is anger, dissatisfaction and denial radiating from him—which explains why he acts this way. All because I didn't give him what he wanted, all because I denied.

I remember all of this. Years of suffering, years of pain—it couldn't get any better unless I obey their rules. The older I became, the more I see. They taught me things that I never thought I would be learning; they taught me how to please someone. To please their customer.

Deaths.

Number of deaths that I see increases from day to day. The girls that I come to know were brutally killed without a single sympathy—I was lucky I'm even alive. I was lucky that they didn't go that far with me. I was lucky I obeyed their orders.

Gonzales once told me that I have come of age—that it was time for me to start doing the good things for him. Little did I know that he means selling me for money, for his own good. The bitter memories are still fresh in my mind, it feels impossible for me to ever erase it from my existence. It has been burning deep into my whole system; I was considered as nothing.

I remember.

The stranger pushes me against the wall, roughly kissing me on the lips before ripping my tight black dress off of my body. I try to free myself from him but he's too strong for me—his strength is undeniably stronger. He runs his lips down my neck, biting harshly which causes me to scream out in pain but he ignores my sudden outburst.

He picks me up the waist before throwing me on the bed, untying his belt. I continue to shake my head as I let out endless tears. This man is going to hurt me, he's going to leave a deep impact and I know he won't stop. He paid for me. He paid to own me for one night.

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