2 — Not Who I am

~Odessa~

"Stay calm and don't force yourself. I don't want you harmed. I want you fresh and clean." The man warned, shoving a piece of cloth into my mouth and tying it behind my neck.

He loosened the ropes holding me against the table, leaving the ones tied to my hands and feet, and lifted me onto his shoulders.

I noticed he was taking me through the back door where no one else could notice us. 

All my efforts to scream for help were useless as the cloth in my mouth hardly let me breathe, not to mention scream as I saw my sister waving satisfyingly at me.

The very people who swore to Dad on his dying bed to protect me once he was gone, became the reason for my misery.

I was just 12 when I learned I was an adopted child of my father, lost and found by the seaside and he showed me nothing but the love of a father.

The reason why Maya and my adopted mother hated me so much.

They claim I came to take what father has—what does not belong to me.

Even now I'm 22, what led me to the sea has never surfaced in my mind. Who my real parents were was still a mystery to me.

The memory of them was blank; maybe because I was too young to understand what happened to me then because Dad said I looked 3 when he found me.

Or fate just has its cruelty.

If only Dad had not fallen victim to heart cancer to die at 52, things wouldn't have turned out this way. If only I knew who my real parents were, maybe I would have lived better—away from the hateful watch of the duo.

But then, what if my real parents never wanted me and threw me into the sea to get rid of me?

More tears streamed down.

What if it were only my late adopted father whom heaven had reserved to be the only one to love me?

And now, just immediately he was led to rest, I've been bundled, to be thrashed again, but this cruel time, not into the sea.

This time, nature wouldn't be merciful enough to lead me to a man like George Gerald.

Instead, I was going to be a slave for a brute.

~~~

Outside, the city was cold even though the loud music from the bar was still heard from a far distance. 

The man put me into the car, untied the cloth in my mouth, giving me space to finally breathe well again.

"Please sir, I'm begging, let me go. I promise to do any other job you ask me to do. Please, have mercy on me." I cried.

So be it, I could endure any odd jobs, tolerate any beating, but to be a sex slave... No. I can never stand it.

"Calm down." The man said. "Be assured I'm not going to harm you. And don't worry, you will be fine." He assured.

I would be fine. How? How would I be fine when he was taking me to destroy my life?

Before I could put meaning to his words, he placed a handkerchief on my nose, making me inhale a strong substance. I fell back on the seat, darkness taking over me.

~~~

After several attempts and struggles, my eyes finally fluttered open.

"Where am I?" I could barely hear my own voice. I forced my mind to recall the last thing that happened to me, but it came crashing back with the throbbing of my head.

"What's happening to me?"

I tried to move, but my body felt stiff.

Pain pounded through me like the beating of drums, a beeping sound echoing in the room like a death knell.

I took a deep forceful breath and struggled again. This time succeeding with lifting my right hand and my eyes fell on my skin.

Absurd.

A shock like a wave ran through me.

Instead of my olive skin color, my skin was almost as white as the bright moonlight sipping in through the window, totally different from how I knew I was.

My olive skin was gone.

How?

Something felt unusual.

With all the strength I could gather, I slid my hand underneath the blanket and flipped it open. My eyes strayed to my waist and I noticed how good I looked.

Too soft, too delicate.

I could remember making a sizable curve in there, not this much.

I lifted my hand again, needing to be certain this wasn't some cruel illusion. That's when my eyes caught a cold gold metal around my finger, the moonlight hitting against the small band like a halo.

A wedding ring.

My breath hitched.

How... when had I started wearing this?

I recall not having a boyfriend let alone a husband. The first and only relationship I've ever had ended in a betrayal, because my own sister stole the man I ever loved and somehow convinced everyone I was the one who did.

Their betrayal had come right on a date as if thoughtfully chosen and aimed at leaving the indelible imprint of it on my mind. Right on my 20th birthday.

And now, I have a ring on my finger?

"No. This can't be possible. This is not me." Something warned me I wasn't who I thought I was.

The strange feeling was there.

My voice comes out unfamiliar each time I speak, as if it belonged to someone else.

Again, I struggled to remember the last thing that happened and then, the unrelenting memory came to my mind.

I recalled being kidnapped, tied, and sold as a sex slave.

"What have Maya and her men done to me?" I whimpered, panic ceasing me the instant.

Where did they take me to?

This... Isn't the kind of place I expect to find myself.

If I'm not mistaken, I should be in an old hag's filthy house where he would merry while taking advantage of me.

Not this kind of place.

Not this environment that looked different, like the one I used to see Dad in on his sick bed before he died.

The scent of antiseptic and fresh linen filled the air, mingled with the gentle hum of machines and beeps of monitors creating an iconic background, making my head spin.

I was trapped, I knew I was trapped.

"Is anyone there? Somebody help!" I intended to scream out the words, but my voice muffled instead.

I struggled to get away from things trapped around me but couldn't. I felt so weak, so heavy.

That pathetic Maya needed to be here and answer my questions right now!

I pushed myself up, heart racing. The room spun. White walls, muted lights, the steady beep of a monitor counting seconds I didn't trust.

I wanted to take a look at my face, but there was nothing to show my reflection.

With each struggle to get away, my eyes began to blur until I felt someone close.

"Who is there? Please help me." My voice barely made a whisper.

I backed against the bed as the person approached. He was clad in a doctor's lab coat.

Just then, another elegant woman looking like she was in her late forties also walked in.

"You're finally awake." The woman spoke, looking me up on the bed I helplessly lay on.

"Please, help me. I need to get out of here. Please..." I begged, hoping they could heed to my plea. But instead, they stood, watching me intently without saying a word.

"Please I need to get out of here right now. They will come after me again if I stay any longer. Please help me." I pleaded desperately, but then the people I cried to made no move, no attempt to help me, and it dawned on me.

"Who are you?" I whispered, more to myself than to them, my breath turning fast and shallow.