Inner Strength

April 11, 2011
By marcelarodas7 BRONZE, Antigua Guatemala, Other
marcelarodas7 BRONZE, Antigua Guatemala, Other
3 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Inner strength, whether acquired or not is always present in an individual. It lurks in the dark corners and spaces inside each of us, those places in our souls we do not dare go. For its one and only desire is to appear non-existent. Don't dare fall into its nasty trick, this journey is for you both. It lurks in the most obvious places, as they say, the best place to hide something is in plain sight, for these corners are merely overshadowed by our fears and insecurities, and when separated, both us and our inner strength are equally weak and terrified. We have been blinded. Many decayed mentally and physically, yet the answer is so near, but the journey, for some of us, nearly deadly. It takes us to those dark-pitch places where we cannot see what lays right in front of us. See, inner strength has no strength itself, the strength  it beholds is meant for only us, and if you dare let it pass you by, and never take those first dreadful steps into your soul, inner strength will pack his bags and leave, in search for a deeper and darker soul to hide in. Now, if the day ever comes when you manage to find him, and lead him the right path back out, you will both walk out with a huge grin on your face, wondering why it took you so long.
The most sick and vile individuals common and fairly satisfied minds cannot imagine, twisted as they may be, and somehow still human, come visit me. These men, so wrecked as they are, choose to inflict disgust and searing pain upon those irresponsible for their problems. Your common happiness blinds you, for you will never end up in such a dreaded and filthy place. The tortures, made specially for us, well, your mind cannot behold, it might break. Still, I find it impossible to imagine what can drive them here, I who have suffered all kinds of tragedy and torture, cannot think of a reason that would ever drive me to such a point near insanity where such extent of sadism could somehow satiate my starving need for peace. They come to me, tell me what they want, and how they want it, and I am left with no choice but to suffer such punishments for which crime I never committed. All of this, for absolutely no personal gain,but the knowledge that I have evaded yet another, much more painful and dreadful experience that would have awaited me had I refused the first. Time has faded to the point where the memories of a past life are nearly gone, and sometimes I think I wish it so, maybe then I will find this new life suited for me, being the only one which I have knowledge of.
Being here for too long to recount, this new life has made me into such a monotonous sexually exploited robot that my thoughts begin to blur, and my mind begins to crumble. I am no longer what would be called human, judging both by my outside and inside, my humanity has decayed and fallen into a much humiliated conformity. There are many girls just like me here, but our terrors run so deep inside us they form a huge brick wall separating us and we cannot find the desired comfort and care we so greatly lack. For none of us has any love or care left inside, it has all been drained and plucked from our beings.
Most of us come and go, but I have remained here for as many years as have some, and have not seen the outside world but through a minuscule cracked window lined with iron bars at the end of this hallway. I have seen so many people walking by, carrying on with their daily lives, never once imagining that such horrid things could ever occur so near their common lives.  My only desire being to break free and share their unappreciated and taken for granted life, one which I would so joyfully receive. It is so inconceivable to me how one can ever take such a beautiful thing for granted and even grow to hate it, when there is nothing there to suffer for, all I see is happiness awaiting, unaware that even with my longed desire for her, I cannot grasp here, she lays way beyond me and keeps running away, hoping I will chase after her.
I was brought here by force, some of the others were fooled and told they were on their way to a decent job and a better future for their families, some where drugged, or are related to those who keep them here, and some have lost it all and been left here for dead. I was abducted by a stranger in the street, he put me in his trunk and drove until I passed out and woke up here, being beaten by an aged and plump woman. She owns us, all of us, and she shall inflict much more pain than any of us has ever experienced with one of our specially devised tortures, her stench makes our knees buckle. I've heard she was once fooled into working here, and has never left since. I wonder if I'd ever be capable of doing such a thing, of inflicting the same horror I have suffered into another so innocent and harmless girl. It makes me wonder, if I'll ever leave this retched place.
I never had a chance to say goodbye to my family, wonder if they ever cared enough  to seek me out. Wonder if they know I'm here, highly doubt it. To be abused in every form possible, has distorted, torn apart what I thought the world to be. I, who was once so innocent, so blinded, had hope for a better life, thought the world was fair, never believed all those around me. I saw happiness, joy, and  a peaceful future for my family. Now I weep at how pathetically naive I was, at the fake illusion of the world I held for so long. And the biggest wonder of mine now, is the question as to how I have managed to remain sane for so long, living such a reckless life makes it impossible to keep a straight mind, but it is hard to believe I am still perfectly sane. 
Some days, I imagine how much easier things would be if madness finally took me over, or if I gave in to the vices, like many of the the others have. Few of us remain sober, some have been lured into addiction by their customers, some have sought it out themselves, and some were already on it when they got here. The new ones, those still holding on to that fake hope and still fighting for freedom, are forcefully drugged to keep quiet and still. That is the second business in this place, selling, selling girls and selling vices. All sorts of vices, like us, just an escape, an addiction.
The same men come here all the time, their faces are no longer human. The hunger, the need that brings them to us can only be that of addiction. Their faces look just like the ones of those here for the drugs, except they are sober. Sometimes I try to imagine what their lives are like, why they do what they do, why the come here. They don't know our names and they never ask. Some of them never look us in the eye, as if doing so will make us real, will make the demons in them real.
The same goes for us too, we never really look each other in the eye, we never really speak to each other, we just say what is necessary. Because if we do, it will make all of us real, it will make this place real, and all that has happened to us. Sometimes, they take some of us, buy them and take them elsewhere. Some of them come back, some of them turn up dead, and some of them never return.

The author's comments:
My mothers work regarding human trafficking has awakened within me a strong sense of perseverance on this field.

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