Page 53 of The Caged Girl

“Shh…they’ll come for you and hurt us both,” the girl whimpered.

Cradling my ribs, I slid back down the brick and held my knees to my face. I was scared. I was terrified. How foolish had I been to test an Ivory man? I made the same mistake again.

“Who are you?” I asked again.

“The caged girl,” she replied and my heart shattered. Did this mean I was going to be one of the nightingales? Every caged girl was deprived of their senses through this dark and silent space, so they’d feel grateful upon release and serve the male clients however they desired.

“And now, so are you.” She let out a sigh as I sobbed into my knees.

It was freezing cold; I couldn’t see anything, and all I knew was another person was in a small cage with me. A cage that I knew resembled one dogs were kept in at shelters.

My head was pounding as I shuddered in a thin, wet gown.

“I’m so thirsty,” I said quietly.

“Please stop talking; they’ll hurt us,” she pleaded.

“Someone help!” I cried again, feeling claustrophobic and suffocated. I began crawling around the small space until I felt her.

She was cold and thin.

“We can get out. When do they bring us food? When do they open the cage?” I asked with panic.

“They won’t bring us anything now because we are talking.”

I patted my hands against her face. Her cheeks were sunken in, and I could feel a tear trail down her cheek.

I stayed silent, knowing yet again, it was my fault someone else was hurting. Everything I thought I was doing was to free all these girls. No one helped my sister or me when we were children being sold by our parents. No one came looking for us, and now these girls… The unloved, unwanted girls were being abused by power and wealth.

“I’ll save you, I promise.” I kissed the top of her head as she trembled.

The air reeked of feces and urine, and I forced myself to close my eyes. There was no escaping the darkness.

* * *

Time didn’t exist here. There was no end and no beginning without light. We shared one small bowl of what I assumed was oatmeal. No words were exchanged, I couldn’t see the person who came down. We were both given a small cup of water, and the other girl with me refused to speak.

If I spoke, we didn’t get food. If I cried, we didn’t get water. I learned very quickly to stay silent.

If not for me, but for her. I lifted my finger and pressed it against her mouth before lifting her hand and pressing it against my chest.

I had learned that when she could feel my heart beating, she smiled. I could tell by the way her cheeks lifted and her lips curved upward.

I wanted to speak to her. I craved the comfort of another’s voice.

But it would be selfish.

So, I just stayed quiet and stared into the darkness, knowing we’d eventually get some form of food. I’d let her have more since she was far too thin.

Brushing my fingers through her long hair, I began to braid it. I pressed my finger against her mouth once again to make sure she approved.

She did.

Another smile.

Every night I’d whimper in pain as my rib protruded out. I knew it was broken so I tore off a part of my gown and wrapped it around my chest in hopes it would alleviate the pain. But this wasn’t physical pain, this was emotional turmoil.

Part of my mind began playing tricks on me. I’d hear her voice and mine, even though our mouths were closed. I thought I’d see a flicker of light, but realized it was my imagination dancing wildly through an empty abyss.

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