Salt

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Literary Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
In school today, we were reading about sex trafficking in Cambodia. The title "The Road of Lost Innocence" by Somaly Mam, a victim of sex trafficking who rose up against her oppression and risked her life to change the mentalities of other victims. She saved many lives, and wrote her book based on her own experiences with being a victim. It's sad, and I only read excerpts from the book! I recommend it though. Anyway, this is a little story I wrote with part of the book as an inspiration...

Submitted: February 09, 2010

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Submitted: February 09, 2010

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She wasn’t screaming, but I could see the color draining from her face. Her dark skin had transformed into a sickening white- it made me nauseous just looking at her. Later, I did throw up. I’ll remember her for the rest of my life. Her shoulders slumped, her face twisted in submission to the cruelty that had just taken place. From my peephole, I watched numbly as the charlatan slung the girl over his shoulder, her body hanging limply against his burly back. I didn’t know what to think. I had already accepted that even here, nobody was really safe. Our den mother could nurture us with love all she wanted to, but out there, outside of these thin cracked walls, lays the reality. The reality, that there really are animals who take pleasure in our pain, in our torture. But no, we are the animals. We are herded into a timeless existence; the cattle prod that the shepherds use is nothing but our fear. Fear is what allows our emotions to tumble slowly away from us, forever, until only the shell of humanity remains. We cannot remember compassion, because consciously, we have never known it. Should someone extend an open, helping hand, most of us would confirm this as a mean hallucination. And then the shivering would begin. Knees would give out. I had even counted seven women in one day, whose knees had dropped to the grimy floor as they silently embarked on a voyage of tears. I very nearly drowned that day. I blame hope. Even now, I can still taste the salt.


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