"Let's go, let's go!" The slave trader said to the pair of girls as they were ushered out of Rommelgrad. Their outfits, old maid dresses they found in trunks deep within the large house, still maintained the air of sophistication: crisp aprons with edges like whipped merengue, dark skirts with only slight signs of aging (and an aroma of moth balls), lace at the edges of their dresses that had long since yellowed but the detail in them were all the same.
Marie hurried into the back of the small and unsuspecting truck that idled outside of the house, looking with fearful eyes at the knives at the men's waists. Maybe, just maybe, if she did as she was told everything would be fine, they'd go easy on her and Patricia and they would be okay.
"I'm going, sheesh." Patricia said as she stomped into the truck, making as much noise as she could. She rattled her handcuffs and blew raspberries at the man who watched her without a hint of amusement. "Where are we going anyways? Do we get bathroom breaks? How about snacks, huh? I'm starving here!"
With heavy footsteps the slave trader made his way toward her and grabbed onto her face with one large, calloused hand, his large knife with the other. "Don't make me cut your damn tongue out." He said, letting the blade catch what little light filtered in from a dirty street lamp. He pushed Patricia onto her rear unceremoniously before slamming the back of the truck shut, leaving the pair in absolute darkness.
Next to her, she could hear Marie begin to squeak with quiet sobs. She had never imagined things would go like this. She thought her and Patricia could play around the orphanage for as long as they wanted until society insisted that they go out and get jobs. Even then they would still be together. They were best friends, there was no other way for them to live.
"Hey, hey don't cry." Patricia said, scooting closer to her. The small encounter with the man shook her, but not nearly enough for her to let it show. She lifted her arms and drew Marie close, hugging her tightly. "We're gonna be okay, okay? I'm gonna find us a way out of here, I promise ya."
"Don't get yourself in trouble Patty." Marie sniffled, hugging back as tightly as her strength would allow her to. "These guys seem like trouble. I thought he really was going to hurt you!"
"No way that'll happen. I'm way stronger than these guys." Patricia boasted as the truck began to move away from their home.
"Just…don't get hurt. I don't want to see you get hurt. Promise me you'll behave."
"I promise." Patricia said, though unable to stop the roll of her eyes. "At least, I'll do what I can."
All the slaves at the encampment were young girls like themselves, forced into ratty dresses that closer resembled potato sacks than any ordinary piece of clothing. Many looked poorly fed, their cheekbones prominent and their elbows and knees like lollipops on tiny sticks. Patricia looked around in shock. This was the life for her and Marie? Until they were sold or bargained off to some stranger and taken to who knows where to do who knows what. Marie trembled next to her as they were forced off of the truck to where other vehicles were letting carloads of girls off, some dressed in finery while others had clothes that barely fit them. Each had a distinct look of fear in their eyes.
Patricia clenched her teeth and wheeled around to face one of them men when a garb similar to what she had seen was tossed at her. "Strip." A voice said. Many of the girls turned red face at the prospect of their own nudity, others tried to put the dress on and take their own clothes off from underneath. When not more than a few moved, the order was repeated again, only much louder and with blades and guns unsheathed.
"You didn't even pay me but you want a show?" Patricia said, dropping the dress to the dirt. "Jeez Louise at least turn around or something. Leave me my dignity, it's about all I got left anyways." She crossed her arms and stared up at the slave trader who threatened her before.
The man walked slowly up to her and placed a heavy hand on her shoulder. "Change now." He said between clenched teeth. "Or you can show the girls what happens when someone doesn't listen."
Marie watched, petrified, as the man gave her his words. 'Patty, you promised you'd behave. Don't make them hurt you!' She thought to herself, scared to breathe let alone speak.
Patricia lifted her hands as she slowly let her cheeks fill with air before pressing down on her face with force, letting a loud, wet flatulent sound escape her. Drops of saliva littered the man's face as it grew redder and redder. Patricia couldn't help but laugh at the man's face. Although her comedy was a little course, the moment seemed to call for it.
"Little runt!" He said as two of the other traders approached. They held onto her arms as the first one wiped his face. He took out his gun and pointed it at her forehead for a moment before grabbing it by the barrel, hitting her mouth with the handle over and over. Patricia clamped her eyes and her lips shut, feeling as her teeth broke one by one. The shards filled her mouth, cutting her tongue and cheeks. She edged one eye open and watched as the man stepped back. In the place he stood she spat the remnants of dozens of teeth onto the ground, what was once white was now smeared with pink. Her tongue burned from all the small cuts. She began to struggle against the men who held her arms, but their grips remained tight. "Oh, we're not done yet." The man said.
Marie watched in absolute terror, all aspect of color gone from her face, as the men nodded to each other and simultaneously twisted her arms until they seemed to go all the way around, only to do it again in reverse. Blood vessels in Patricia's eyes began to pop as she struggled not to scream, forced herself not to scream. Not in front of Marie.
The man let the other two drop her arms and he approached her, cupping her face in his hands. He smiled to her before pushing his thumbs into her eye sockets, letting blood run down her cheeks to meet with the steady stream that dripped off her chin. Her body seized in shock as she fell to the dirty ground.
Marie grasped her chest as she felt her heart beat hard and fast. Did she just watch her dearest friend in the whole world die? And for what? These men…these men only wanted to hurt them and would take any chance they got to do it. She watched as they loaded Patricia's body back into a truck, sure to drop her off somewhere in the middle of nowhere so that the blame remained elsewhere.
They would pay. Marie swore it right then and there. She would find a way to make them pay, and make sure every single slave trader knew her hatred. They took Patricia from her, it was only fitting that she did the same.