I just woke up from a dream. The sun is not up yet and I come out of the dreamy haze with relief and still a huge weight on my consciousness. In the wee hours of the morning, I can just make out that my little one is sound asleep beside me. She had inched herself up to the top of the bed and was using the entire pillow as her mattress. I pull her down under the covers to keep her warm.
I couldn’t shake the feeling of the dream. Sleep again evades me. So I will share this tale of fear. I am afraid for some, reality is and much worse.
Surrounded by the surreal fuzziness of dream state, not caring for truth or logic, I found myself moving back to the apt I had lived in NY. I arrived late and exhausted. I crawled into bed and realized I needed something so I moved to the floor to find it. On my hands and knees I searched. I was wearing a t-shirt and undies. normal sleep attire. Immediately, I heard voices. My land lady pleading with someone. I wanted to flee to the safely of the closet. Fear struck me and weighed me down like a stomach full of bricks.
Instantly my landlady and a strange man were there and I was frozen in the crawling position, in my underwear in front of a stranger. The man was openly eyeing me with nauseating lust. I was without a place to hide. If I could have only made it to the closet… he wouldn’t know I was there.
As time went on I found out he was keeping a young girl there hostage. a sex slave She and the landlady had wrist bracelets like shocking dog collars, but much more sinister. They glowed green like evil eyes. They were prisoners of the house.
He made his way to me and I felt the fear and revulsion engulf me. He kissed me and talked to me as if I was his possession with no choice or means of escape. I was trapped. I learned how the other girl felt. Hopeless, ever fearful, and just a shadow of human life. Freedom was just a dream of the past.
The young girl was his. Her body was not her own. He came and used her when he wanted. Her small room was her only solace.
So many thoughts raced through my mind.
in this situation you learn new things and new ways to be fearful. You try to hide your fear and disgust. you don’t say anything. You are an animal in a trap. no voice or words.
I kept thinking of the girl, she was so young missing her life. No one would care for her if she was sick, she had only to wait and for him to come to her. traumatized by the horrible reality that she was a modern-day slave…like so many others in this world. living in darkness, taken from her family. depression grips and becomes a shackle. A dungeonous life.
You can imagine the relief I felt as reality struck. But for many, a life worse than this is reality. The profits from captured women forced into prostitution are so great that stopping these people is next to impossible. These vile subhuman, who sacrifice the lives of others, including young girls and boys are so powerful, and the desire of so many is so great that this will continue.
Men paying to use these slaves tell themselves lies that the women have chosen this life. But deep down they must know that is not true.
Victims are surviving physically, but dead inside. Hope is beyond their reach.
This is still heavy on my chest. I have such a burden to help, and I just don’t know how. Eastern European living makes me think of it more. Though I know it is just as much of a reality back in the US.