Page 7 of Cry for Help

She unlocked her teeth and let out a loud curse. Her chest heaved as she staved off a panic attack.

I’d been there.

Trapped. Helpless.

I wasn’t a good person. I’d done too many things to claim that title, but I could help someone. Just once.

I shuffled forward, and Inmate Thomas flinched as I raised my hands to her hair and began unknotting the tangled strands one by one.

Thomas slapped my hands away when she was free, unceremoniously falling face first in the mud.

There was no gratitude as she army-crawled away.

I rolled my eyes and continued after her. Slowly and surely, making my way to the other side. My face was hot, and I couldn’t fill my lungs all the way, but I made it.

I stood up, shivering, and joined the inmates at the end of the line.

“No one triggered any landmines.” Mr Jingle regarded us with a sneer. “Usually, there’s at least one.”

We all stared at the muddy field in horror. Something told me he wasn’t lying.

Two ancient light bulbs sat on the low ceiling, one tinted red and the other green.

I had watched the rest of the women called, one by one, and had no idea what to expect the moment I stepped through the doorway to the stage.

We’d been allowed the shower and given plain black dresses to wear. Sleeveless and shapeless.

As I drew closer to the door, I caught the tail end of the hurried announcement of the auctioneer. Each sentence met with jeering and laughter.

I waited for my turn.

The line had moved quickly, and each of my fellow inmates had spent barely a minute on stage before another had been called up.

I kept waiting.

The auction had grown quiet. Low chatter and no cheering.

Was it over?

I didn’t know how long I waited as I sank to the floor and sat, using the flimsy black dress to try to cover my knees. The concrete was cold. I was exhausted and hungry. The fear I had held at bay for days finally came home to roost.

Had they forgotten about me?

I was used to being forgotten.

I shouldn’t have been surprised.

After my mom died, I bounced between group homes for a while. It hadn’t been unusual to go to bed with an empty belly because someone had eaten my portion.

I’d watch other children at events, lapping up the attention from potential parents, and realize I just didn’t haveit. That spark that made people take notice.

I was just...Maddie.

I wasn’t sure how long I sat on the cold floor when the door opened with an unhealthy squeak, revealing the auctioneer in his pressed suit and expensive haircut.

He caught sight of me before blinking and looking back through the doorway. “I missed one.” He cursed. “Darlin’, you should have said something. Most of the big spenders have left.”

I offered him a limp smile, pointed to my throat, and shook my head.

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