A/N: Okay, I can accept that most of you are probably really upset about the last chapter…or maybe I'm just trying futilely to convince myself that this story is good enough. I guess I'm just a review hog. I like the reader's approval and when I don't get it in large quantities, I start freaking out. Oops. Anyway, onward with the story! We are back to Bella's POV. Well, for a portion of the chapter. I can't stand another second in James's head.

Summary: Taken by men who are going to rent me out to strangers that will take advantage of me…Brilliant. This wasn't bad luck. It was my sentence to hell. Rated M for adult themes including rape and slavery.

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or its characters.

HUMAN TRAFFICKING PART 6: UNCLEAN

The water wasn't hot enough. I could see it swirling around me in a pool of pink and I could feel it burning into my skin, cleansing it, but it wasn't enough. The water would never be hot enough. Hot water cleaned better than cold water, everyone knew that.

So why wasn't this water hot enough?

They didn't give me any wire scrubbers or a loofah, but they did give me a washcloth. It wasn't enough to scrub myself clean. I needed something rough to deteriorate the top layer of skin, to make me clean again. It wasn't working.

The soap stung and I knew that the stinging soaps would clean me better than the other, more gentle soaps. So I scrubbed until I was raw and bleeding. And I scrubbed everywhere, everywhere he touched me and slapped me, everywhere he entered me, everywhere he kissed me, everywhere. But his essence, his very presence was etched into my skin, the deeper layers of my skin and refused to wash out. It was like an annoying stain that would never really come out, that would sit there, looking back at you and all you can do is take it. I didn't want to take it.

Somewhere, I knew that I should stop scrubbing unless I wanted to continue bleeding, but I couldn't care. If scrubbing until my skin was gone would make me clean, then so be it. I didn't hear anyone come into the stalls, but when they moved back the curtain, cool air hit me, taking away the heat. No, I need the heat.

I couldn't tell who it was. My vision was blurred and I could only see the blur of blonde in front of me and several pairs of eyes. I could only recognize that it was the girls from the other room, but I briefly wondered what were doing here. But I couldn't stop scrubbing for long. The cold air brought in germs and I had to make up for that by scrubbing order. The person bent over and kneeled beside me.

When had I gotten on the floor?

Her voice was soothing and gentler than it had been the last time she had spoken to me. "Bella, you need to get up." I shook my head and kept on scrubbing with the towel. The steam around us was leaving and I had to keep clean. Cleanliness was crucial.

ROSALIE POV

The pathetic looking girl on the shower floor was not the one who had attacked James, who had tried to save one of us. The Americans we had before acquainted turned a blind eye towards us and our situation. She had actually run to our rescue, only to be taken in to captivity. That's what angered me, not her. That James had actually caught her, that Katea hadn't gotten away, that no one was saved and everyone was broken.

Her pale skin was red with blood and flush. We needed to get her up before she bled anymore. It wouldn't be taken lightly by Victoria if she wasn't able to work when we reached Chicago.

"Bella, you need to get up." I tried to speak in my softest voice. I remember my first job time. I had been a virgin and unaware and scared. The man wasn't gentle –and from what I could tell, neither was James –and afterwards, I had scrubbed myself raw. Bella was the same, if not worse.

She shook her head stubbornly and continued scrubbing. I pulled the washcloth out of her hand and she stared up at me with wide, glassy eyes.

"The dirt…it's still there. It won-won't come out. It won't come out," she murmured quietly, her hands unconsciously clawing at her skin. As if seeing something unknown to us, she took the rag from my hand and began scrubbing the drain, mumbling, "Too dirty…dirty…need clean….hotter…" I sighed and looked back to the others and motioned them forward. Katea fronted the group, instantly coming to Bella's aid and pulling her hands away from her lacerated arms. She and the others had taken to Bella quickly. To say the least, I was jealous.

When I had arrived, I had acted poorly, making myself out to be better than the others because I had a full education and knew how to speak English. The others disliked me and I was forced into a period of solitude; that is, until my first "job". After that, everyone was more understanding and I was broken. It wasn't hard to trust the other girls, to see them with the same bruises that I had and see that they were living through it.

Katea was hugging Bella, murmuring quietly, "Sajnálom," over and over again, tears coming out of her eyes. I could tell she was surprised that Bella had been taken by James. Occasionally, the men would take us for themselves for an hour or so, but never before had James shown that much interest or done so much harm. Marks all over her arms and legs and thighs, along with a few around her neck, covered her thoroughly. It would be a miracle if the bruises would disappear by the time we got to Chicago.

Speaking quietly so as to not startle Bella (though I didn't believe she could hear us anyway), I turned towards the others. "Mi szükségességét, hogy sikerült neki." The others nodded and ran off, calling out, "Valaki hozzák a kéztörlőkkel és néhány ruhát. Ellenőrizze, hogy ez a tiszta," and "Állítsuk be a krémek." Together, they pulled a limp Bella out of the showers and dragged her to a nearby seat, wrapping her in towels to keep her warm. Her normally pale skin was red and bloody around her legs and elbows. Her eyes were bloodshot and blank, staring at the shower doors. As carefully as we could, we applied the lotions to her skin, careful with the thinned skin and the cuts. The lotions stung, but she didn't even wince. I remember, I had screamed when they had been applied to me. It had burned like salt on an open wound.

Sajnálom. –Sorry

Mi szükségességét, hogy sikerült neki.- We need to get her out.

Valaki hozzák a kéztörlőkkel és néhány ruhát. Ellenőrizze, hogy ez a tiszta. –Someone bring some towels and some clothes. Make sure it's clean.

Állítsuk be a krémek. –Bring the creams.

No whimpers or tears escaped her eyes the entire time. Even when the soft clicks of Victoria's heels came too close for comfort and the red-haired demon entered the shower room, she didn't move. Victoria looked in and saw what we were doing with a look of pity and disgust on her face. I was tempted to tell her that James would leave her the same way if she continued pining after her, but stopped myself. She wouldn't understand. She was supposed to be with us, but she lucked out. Caius took a liking to her "elegance" and decided she would be perfect for recruiting us. Too bad that as soon as she met James, she was hooked on someone that would never love because they could never love.

We didn't stop applying the creams. Bella's eyes slowly closed and she fell asleep, too tired to continue fighting consciousness. She was too weak to even fight off the nightmares that night. She refused to wake even when we shook her to load the van. Instead we carried her and let her rest. The screams were all we heard.

AUTHORS ARE FRIENDS, NOT FOOD. DON'T FLAME THEM (OR EAT THEM). THAT CHILDREN IS CANNIBALISM AND IS FROWNED UPON IN MOST SOCIETIES.