Highest Bidder

sweet freedom

I lean against the wall and slowly slide down until I plop onto the floor. Tears form in my eyes as I bring my knees up to meet my chest and wrap my arms around them in an attempt to make myself as small as possible. Stupid, stupid, stupid, Sang. Have you learned nothing? Running always makes the punishments worse. Any moment now they—the men—all nine of them will be up here to give me my punishment for running off and whatever I did to anger them in the first place. I can only hope that it will only be one or two of them that actually dish out the punishment, while the rest simply watch on, maybe adding what they consider justice—just as my father and sister used to do. I truly don't know if I can survive if they all join in. They are all so much bigger than me. My fate already decided, I do the only thing I can and let the tears fall as I listen for footsteps on the stairs.

When I hear nothing after a few minutes, I hold my breath, trying to block out every small noise as I strain to listen. They have to be coming soon. After a few more moments, the sound I have been waiting for can be heard. Except, instead of multiple footsteps, I am only able to hear one set. Do I dare hold hope that my punishment will be dealt out by only one? The footsteps stop in front of my door, once again leaving me to wait for what I know will come next—the sound of the door banging against the wall as the person outside barges in. However, the bang never comes; only a light knock on the door. Surprised they would bother to knock, I lift my head from my knees, staring at the solid wood of the door. Another knock startles me as it’s followed by a male voice speaking.

“Miss Sang, May I please enter?” Mr. Blackbourne asks softly. So softly I’m not even sure I hear him correctly. Relief that it is not the scariest one—that Mr. North Taylor—has me pausing a moment to reply.

“Y-y-yes,” I stutter out. This was probably a test. One that I probably just failed and now he has even more to punish me for. Sang, pull yourself together before you end up dead, I think to myself.

Mr. Blackbourne slowly eases the door open. Watching his moves carefully as he approaches me slowly, I find myself straining my neck to look up at him when his polished shoes stop in front of me. Instead of finding what I expect, an angry man staring back at me, I see kind grey eyes, full of worry, looking down at me.

“Miss Sang, do you care to join me up here or shall I come down to you?” he questions.

Uncertain on how he wants me to answer, I keep my mouth shut, hoping if I let him make the decision, he will make the punishment easier for me.

“Very well then,” Mr. Blackbourne states before taking a seat next to me, sitting in a criss-cross-applesauce position.

We sit in complete silence for two minutes, before Mr. Blackbourne begins to speak again, “Miss Sang, I don’t believe we have done a very good job of introducing ourselves.” He pauses, and searches my eyes looking for...well, I’m not really sure. I don’t say anything, I don’t move, I don’t even breathe. This is it. The law is going to be laid, and I will receive my punishment.

“Miss Sang, we are the good guys. We don’t want to harm you, we want to help you. As well as the other girls that have been auctioned off as you were. Please understand the yelling was not your fault,” he states, his grey eyes remaining on mine, open and honest.

Unsure if I should speak, I nod my head slowly in understanding. Yet, as honest as he seems, I can’t bring myself to trust him. He very well could be a professional liar or something,  

“I need to ask you a question, and I need your honesty. Would you feel more comfortable with a group of girls, instead of here with us?” he asks.

Immediately I have thoughts of my mother and sister, and without stopping to think over his exact words, I find myself shaking my head in the negative. As much as these men terrify me, women, as I have found, are the far scarier sex by far.