My name is Hope

Hope is a 15 year old slave in southeast Asia. Taken from her family and sold into human trafficking at the age of 11, Hope struggles to keep fighting, stay strong, and have hope

They viewed us up and down, deciding which girl they wanted for the night. We all refused to look these wretched men in the eyes. That's when we heard the decision. "That one. Number seven." I looked  up at the sound of my number and glared at the men. 

"My name is Hope" I hissed. The man who runs the brothel nudged me hard in the arm and said,

"You are not Hope, you are number seven. That's all you are. A number." I glared at him but couldn't find the strength in me to argue, so I stayed silent. I hated letting him win. I trudged to the assigned room with my client, and got it over with.

If you think I enjoy being nothing more than a sex toy, you're wrong. When I was eleven, human traffickers raided our small village, and I wasn't the only child who was taken. In fact most of the children in the village were taken. I try not to relive the memory of that day though. It hurts to much. That's how I've learned to cope with this whole ordeal. Don't think about it. Forget. Sometimes it's easier to forget, and other times, not so much.

 I used to believe that I would be rescued, that someone would come and rescue us all and arrest the people who did this to us. I waited for that day, and it never came and I eventually had to accept that it never would. When my client had finished I made him leave. He resisted at first, telling me that he paid to have a night with me, but I threatened to make his night a living hell if he didn't leave. "You got what you wanted. There's no reason left for you to stay. If you think I'm going talk to you, build some kind of relationship with you, then you are wrong. Now please leave." He swore under his breath as he left and I began to worry he would tell Dave. Dave is the man who tells me I'm just a number, the man who tears us all down, the man who keeps us prisoner here. Not more than ten minutes later Dave burst into the room in fury.

 "What the hell was that? I just had a good client tell me he's never coming back because you were a b***h to him!" I looked Dave straight in the eyes and said

"He wanted more love than he paid for." Dave narrowed his eyes at me but I didn't break away from glaring, no matter how much he tried to intimidate me.

"Look, you don't do what you think is enough you do what I think is enough! Now because of you I owe him a free night with you, that is if he is willing to come back! Next time you want to act like a b***h remember that I am the man who decides when your next meal will be, I am the man who decides where you sleep and I am the man who keeps you alive!" I wasn't going to take that. My rage had come to a boiling point.

"You are not the man you think you are Dave. In fact you're not a man at all! Just a coward who pimps out children to perverts! I don't care what you do any more! Don't feed me for three days, make me sleep outside, see if I give a damn! I am not afraid of you anymore! Kill me even because death would probably be better than the life I am living now! You may have me trapped here but you can't control me anymore! I can make you lose every client who picks me, I can make you go bankrupt and I can convince the other girls to do the same! I am not some damn object that you can play with, and I am not number seven either! My name is Hope and I am not afraid of you anymore!" I stood out of breath from the fury of my words. Dave stared fuming, but to shocked to say anything. Instead he slapped me hard across the face, but I resisted the urge to cry or yell in pain, I stood tall and kept glaring at him and whispered, "You can't break me." He just glowered and spat, 

"Oh, we'll see about that."  He then turned on his heel and stomped out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

The ground was hard as stone and the air had a heartless chill to it. As I had expected, Dave made me sleep outside. The yard was fenced with an 8 foot concrete wall, and Dave has guys posted on the security cameras to make sure I don't try to leave. I was huddled by a tree trying to keep warm when an idea came to me. The security cameras don't pick up sound. No windows on the building were open. I could scream. I could scream as loud as possible and maybe someone would here me and get help. If Dave were to here me scream he would either kill me or injure me to a horrible extent, but if that's the price that a chance at freedom for these girls and I costs, I'm willing to pay it. I said a quick prayer that someone would hear and help us, then I took a deep breath and screamed as loud as my lungs would allow. I screamed "help" mostly to make sure who ever heard me knew it wasn't a joke. I screamed until I tasted blood in my mouth and that's when the light's in the building went on. Fear rushed throughout my body and I began to try to climb the tree, but the branches were to far apart, so instead I took a deep breath and accepted my fate. I turned and waited for Dave. I didn't wait long. He stormed out, his face blood red, veins in his neck tensed, and his eyes directly targeting me. I stood tall as he rushed at me and threw me to the ground. He hit me repeatedly as I struggled to fight back as he screamed "WHAT DO YOU THINK YOUR DOING"! He swore at me as he hit me but I was able to get one good punch and I heard a sickening cracking sound and blood gushed from his nose he yelled and his hand went to his nose. I took the opportunity to kick him in the crotch then I ran inside, head for the front door. I just about reached the front door when it burst open on its own. Police swarmed into the house and I burst into tears. I ran to one of the officers, hugging them and I just sobbed. 

The officers had all of us outside. It was wonderful to watch Dave get taken away in hand cuffs with his bleeding nose. I strode up to the cop car that Dave was in leaned down and hissed "I am Hope." and I walked away. One of the officers turned out to be my older brother, and he took me home to my family whom I haven't seen in 4 years. They take me to counseling, and support groups to help me deal with what I've been through. I still have nightmares about those 4 years but my mother always comes to comfort me. For the first time in 4 years, I didn't worry about if I would get my next meal, I wasn't afraid to go to sleep, and I felt safer than I ever had.

Author's Note

I made this story up, but there are many stories like Hope's that are real. To learn more about human trafficking go to love146.org