Ava's POV
"Please don't, I didn't do it, I apologize for everything." I screamed, tears streaming down my cheeks.
"I don't care; I'm going to sell you and finally get rid of you." The woman I addressed as my mother spat back.
I looked into my mother's eyes, searching for a glimmer of regret, a glimmer of sorrow, anything other than anger and disgust.
But there was nothing there, no sadness or regret, just pure delusional joy as she watched me beg for help.
My own mother was selling me to a cruel and disgusting man.
I screamed, kicked, and punched in an attempt to break free from the grasp of two men, but it was futile. When my mother came home, I had withdrawn myself into a corner, knowing that my alcoholic father was not far behind her.
We were the perfect family a few years ago; I was still young and innocent.
My father had a steady job, and my mother stayed at home to care for me, despite the fact that I was in middle school at the time. We lived in a lovely home, and I remembered my close friends.
Then, about a year ago, my mother began to come home less and less, ignoring her responsibilities and not telling anyone where she had gone. My father quickly discovered that she had cheated with another man.
After he found out, he began to drink and gamble, becoming less and less the person I looked up to. When he lost all of our money and our life savings, he also lost his job because he would arrive at work drunk and high.
We had to relocate to a bad part of town, which only exacerbated our problems. My father became involved with a gang and soon owed them a large sum of money.
But I never expected him to sell me, and I never expected my mother to agree, let alone be happy.
But there I was, being picked up by two muscular men in a business attire.
I screamed, kicked, and even tried to bite the man who had thrown me over his shoulder, but it was futile.
The man carrying me was twice my size, and when I saw the gun in his waistband, fear overtook my adrenaline, and I knew there was no way out.
Because of the tears that had formed in my eyes, I could hardly see anything. I screamed for my mother, hoping and praying that she would save me from this nightmare, but all I saw before being injected with something that knocked me out was my mother smiling, almost relieved that I was being taken.
I was 15 years old when I was separated from my family.
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