Runaway

When a teenage girl's father dies, she and her mom end up homeless. After a quasi-stepdad enters the scene, things go from bad to worse and she becomes a runaway.


Her escape only serves to take her from the frying pan and into the fire. She gets abducted, sold, auctioned and rescued. Then it's time for revenge.


Excerpts: "You wanna buy some good weed cheap?" she asked. It was tempting. Do I spend my money on weed or on a burger and fries? "No, my funds are limited. I need to eat, but thanks." "Normally it's twenty bucks, but you seem like a nice kid and I'm in a bind. You can have it for ten. Just follow me around the corner so no one sees the transaction." She led, I followed, remembering the high I'd gotten from Joey's stuff. I needed that again. As soon as we rounded the corner, she looked over her shoulder to be sure we weren't being watched. The next thing I knew, she had me in a headlock and was putting zip-ties on my wrists. "What are you doing?!" She used a stun gun and chloroform to weaken my protest and shut me up, then opened the trunk of the car we were standing next to and threw me inside. I groggily awoke later inside a barn. - - -


They placed us in stalls with numbers. When morning came, potential buyers began walking through the area checking us out. They came from Italy and Ukraine, some were locals. They looked at our teeth, groped our bodies. It was as if they were buying cattle. We got zapped with a cattle prod if we didn't smile alluringly. As the sun began to set, it was auction time. Fifteen up, fifteen down. Some sold for what Viktor wanted, some didn't. The latter were destined for the dreaded brothel. I was the next one up on the stage, with a line of more girls waiting in the wings behind me. "This is Allie. She comes with a signed, witnessed and notarized title." He held it up for them to see. "She is eager to please a woman or a man. Tell them about yourself, girl!" I attempted to portray a girl they would want, innocent, naive, receptive to abuse, fertile, relatively pure, eager to please. I could cook, clean, do laundry and all other household chores in my spare time. Life with one owner appealed much more than one turning tricks twenty-four-seven in some dirty brothel. "Dance sexy for them, Allie!" I did. "Remove your lingerie. Turn around, bend over, spread your cheeks, let them see how nice you are." I did as told. It was humiliating. Someone bid fifty thousand euros. I knew that would not be enough. I bent over again and wriggled my ass. A hundred thousand euros. I faced the crowd and began to play with myself and roll my tongue. Two hundred thousand. Viktor shook his head no. I was petrified and looked pleadingly to the crowd for a mercy bid - - -


She pulled out a needle and a bottle of something. "It's heroin, the most addictive drug there is. Some people only need one time and they are hooked." A man held out my arm for her, and she prepared to insert the needle. "No, no, please don't!" I begged. I could only watch as the needle pierced my flesh. I felt the warm liquid working its way inside me. I saw Zoey watching in horror. "Did you know there are more brothels per square inch in Bucharest than in most of Central and Eastern Europe?" she asked. I felt nauseous for five to ten seconds, then a quick and intense sense of euphoria. "Oh my God. What have you done to me?" She was laughing at my introduction to addiction when Cezar walked in. He was middle-aged with white hair and looked viscous.