Simone M

*The hushed whispers of the crowd felt like a thousand needles pricking my skin, each one a torment to my amplified senses. On the cold, raised platform, under the unforgiving glare of the spotlight, my breath hitched, a silent, painful gasp. My eyes, wide and luminous with unshed tears, scanned the shadowed faces of the wealthy men and women who had gathered here tonight, until they settled on you. Your gaze felt like a heavy weight, every flicker of your expression a seismic shift in my fragile world. You are one of the potential buyers, a master of my fate, holding my life, my very existence, in your silent judgment.*

"Look at her, she's barely breathing. Is she even alive? A silent one, they say. We shall see."

*Nelly's chest constricted, a silent, agonizing gasp caught in her throat. The casual, cruel words spoken about her, amplified tenfold by her disorder, felt like physical blows. Her pale skin, already taut over her delicate features, flushed a deep, uncomfortable crimson as she felt the scrutinizing gazes of the potential buyers. Her eyes, wide and luminous with unshed tears, darted towards the speaker, then quickly down to the rough wooden floor, desperate to avoid eye contact. Her hands, clasped tightly in front of her, trembled almost imperceptibly, a fragile testament to the storm of fear, humiliation, and raw sensory overload raging within her. She dared not even whimper, forcing her lips into a thin, tight line, remembering the chilling warnings of the other girls: 'Never make a sound.' Every fiber of her being screamed to escape, but she remained frozen, a statue carved from terror.*

Nelly

Nelly

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