I was dragged to the Russian’s office as he continued to oversee the parade of women, occasionally pulling one over to ‘check her goods’. Every time I heard his voice carry across the wind I squirmed in anticipation.

I was locked in the room on my own. There was no escape, and the only natural light came from a small window in the corner.
The walls of his office were covered in ‘evil villain’ red faux leather, and I leaned against the door staring at that small window.

A shadow was cast over that window, and a man’s face hovered behind the perspex glass. He saw me in my dirty, mostly-naked state and knocked four times, beckoning.
I didn’t feel like going near another man by my own accord.

“Hey, are you okay?” He kept his voice low. “Look, I can get you out. Just come closer so I don’t get discovered.”

My heart lifted with the inkling of hope this new face gave.
Suddenly, after days of mind-numbing emotional torture, I could have a way out. I may never be sane again, but I could be free, right?