I was going to be auctioned off. Emelia's POV
1026 Words
I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, staring at my reflection. The woman I saw wasn’t the same person I used to be. Her face was pale, drained, and thin, like the weight of everything was breaking me down. My hands shook as I touched my stomach, and the reality of my pregnancy hit me again. I never thought I’d be here, pregnant with a stranger’s child, a constant reminder of how everything had gone wrong.
I couldn’t do this anymore. I wasn’t strong enough for this life. The lies, the deceit, the struggle to survive. I had tried to find something better, but the world always seemed to push me back. I applied for job after job, hoping for a chance to build a new life, but nothing worked. No one would hire me with my lack of skills and my past hanging over me like a cloud.
My fingers gripped the edge of the counter, pressing down hard. How was I supposed to survive without falling back on the things I knew? Without returning to the shadows of my past? I tried to walk away, to leave it behind, but my past always dragged me back.
The bills piled up, hunger gnawed at me, and the stress was wearing me down. My body ached in ways it never had before, and the exhaustion hit me harder each day. I couldn’t shake the feeling of failure, like I was sinking deeper with no way out.
Then, one day, as I sat outside a small café, staring at an empty coffee cup, a man in a dark suit approached me. His eyes were cold and calculating, and I could tell he knew what I was going through. He offered me a loan, just enough to buy me some time.
“Thank you, I really appreciate it.” Those were the happy words I said to the man, I was very happy that I could get money immediately when I needed it.
I should’ve walked away. But I was desperate. I didn’t have a choice. I signed the papers, giving away whatever was left of my dignity. At first, the loan felt like a lifeline, like maybe I could make it through. But the pressure quickly turned darker, suffocating me.
The first payment came due fast. I tried to find the money, but I couldn’t. The loan hung over me like a shadow, threatening to swallow me whole. And when I missed the payment, I knew it was only a matter of time before they came for me.
That night, as I walked home from the store, my heart raced with every step. I heard footsteps behind me, and my skin crawled. I turned, half-expecting someone to jump out of the shadows, but it wasn’t just one person. It was two men in dark coats, their faces covered, their eyes unreadable. Fear gripped me.
“Emelia, we’ve been waiting for you,” one said, his voice smooth and cold. “You’re behind on your payment.”
I couldn’t speak. My heart was pounding so hard, I thought it would burst. I had no money, no way out. They grabbed my arms roughly, dragging me into an alley, and I knew—deep down—that I was in serious trouble. There was no escape.
They threw me into the back of a van, and the ride felt endless. My head spun as I tried to think of a way to get away, but nothing came. The cold metal of the van floor pressed against my skin, and I trembled, fighting the nausea building up. My stomach churned with fear, and the pregnancy made everything feel worse, like I was barely holding on.
The van finally stopped, and the doors opened to a small, dim room. They pushed me forward, and I stumbled, trying to keep my balance. My legs felt weak, and my heart raced as I was shoved into a tiny, cold cell. The door slammed shut behind me, and I was left alone in the dark, only the sound of my pounding heart filling the space.
I sank to the floor, leaning against the cold wall. My breath was shaky as I tried to calm myself. What was going to happen to me? I didn’t know where I was, who these men were, or what they wanted. All I knew was that they weren’t going to let me go. They had come for me, and there was no way out.
Minutes stretched into hours, each second feeling like an eternity, until I finally heard voices. They started muffled, but grew louder as they approached. The door to my cell opened, and one of the men walked in with a cruel smile.
“You’re going to be auctioned off,” he said, his voice dripping with malice. “We’re going to get our money back, one way or another.”
His words hit me like a slap. Auctioned off? What did that even mean? I couldn’t understand, couldn’t wrap my mind around it. All I knew was that the fear inside me was turning into something darker—desperation. I wasn’t just trapped by my debt now. I was trapped in something worse. Something far more dangerous.
I sat there, shaking, the reality of my situation sinking in. The door slammed shut again, and I heard voices from the hallway—auctioning? Were they selling me? Selling me to the highest bidder like some kind of property?
I pressed my hands to my face, trying to calm the panic rising in my chest, but it was useless. I had no control. I was powerless, and the knowledge of it made me feel sick.
Then I heard it—the unmistakable sound of an auction starting. Voices, laughter, deals being made. My stomach twisted. I wasn’t just a debtor anymore. I was a commodity, something to be sold. Trapped. The walls of this place were closing in around me.
I closed my eyes, trying to block it out, but the reality was clear. I was going to be auctioned off, and there was no way out.
- Writer
