Fourteen Days

“A little ugly, but at least she's docile.” That was the first thing anyone ever said about me.

From the moment I opened my eyes, all I could see was a cramped, filthy room, a cold, taciturn mother, and a man who was always cursing.

All I could hear were the overlapping cries of women and children, and the man's ceaseless stream of abuse.

Being docile, with an innocent, uncomprehending look in my eyes, was the only bargaining chip I had to stay alive and leave that place.

Only after I carried out the man's orders and waited for the day someone chose me could I leave, and see my mother one last time.

But all my efforts won me was a chance to watch helplessly as my mother was shoved into a small truck, never to be heard from again.

Then I met her.

She gave me a warm, bright name. She would talk with me for ages, understand how timid and wary I was, and gently stroke my hair and squeeze my hand.

If I could, I would want to live with her for the rest of my life.

But why does everything keep going against my wishes?

Theme: Live in the present