Cindy's POV

I tried to turn myself around so that I could lie properly on my side, but I could not. I tried to get up but even that I could not do, because the headache that overtook me as the worse of its kind.

Gathering up the last strength in me, I finally opened my eyes and my head hurt. The sunshine coming through the little window, right at the very top of the room blinded me. The pangs of starvation ate away at my stomach and the cracking of my lips hurt me, as I bled though those same lips. I was weakening and even that I could feel it, I shut my eyes and went back to sleep. Inside my heart, I prayed that this was not the end of me and that I might gather some strength to wake.

My eyes were shut but my lips moved, I mouthed some prayers to myself; a tear rolling off my face was my very last plea.

*****

The little strength that I had prayed for had come back to me by the time I opened my eyes. Although I was still hungry and thirsty, I was glad for the little strength that I had. I used my hands to push myself off the floor and looked around the room, even though the light streamed through it was not enough to brighten the entire room. I looked around the tiny room and there were other women and children like myself, they all looked sad.

I woman like myself crawled towards me and she handed me a cup of water, I grabbed the cup from her hand and gulped the water down my throat. The sweet taste of water filled my body and truly, I appreciated this gesture that she performed.

"Hi my name WaKirah and you are?” She asked me. I put down my cup, I wanted to answer her immediately but I was out of breath.

"My, my name is Cindy" I answered her. My heart pumping against my ribcage, it must have been a sign of fear or tiredness.

WaKirah stared at me again and this time I did the same, I did not know whether she was a friend or foe. What she wore shocked me. Back home, we women were though to up and not wear revealing clothing. WaKirah was wearing a mini top, a mini skirt both beautiful and vibrant color but revealing her body completely. On her arm, she wore many bangles of different various colors, her nails were long and perfectly colored, her nose, ears pierced and her high heels were high, like nothing I have ever seen before.

She walked away and when she did, I saw other young woman and children worse off than I was. Some were sad and some were crying. Instead of sitting and doing nothing, I counted the thirty-six woman, young girls like myself in such a small and cramped room, barely leaving enough for room for proper ventilation.

Wakirah walked away from me, leaving to sit at the corner of the room to myself. When she returned, she further blessed me as she handed me a plate of plain rice. I ate it in such a hurry, I could not remember when last I was this hungry in my entire life.

"Slow down my sister, do you want to choke yourself to death?” WaKirah warned me. I was too hungry to worry about choking; satisfying my hunger was my only concern. I was finally done when Wakirah took my plate, cup and placed it besides herself on the cold concrete floor.

“Where am I?” I asked her, afraid and slowly realizing that this was not where I was supposed to have been headed.

"I can't exactly say, but I think we are in New York City already" Wakirah answered me. My pupils dilated, as I was shocked, a trip that was to take me no further than the capital city of Kinshasa had taken me all across the ocean.

"Why are we here?” I asked her again. I tried my best to keep most of the questions to myself, but I could not help that most of my questions kept spilling out.

"Well, I for one am a prostitute and you guys for the time being, you are just slaves, like I once was. I don't know, some of you might end up being forced into marriage, become maid's, mistresses, beggars or like me... a prostitute” WaKirah answered me with absolute ease as though all that she had told me was normal.

I stared at her in utter shock and horror. I couldn't believe a word she was saying —or could I?

"But I was supposed to go to the city and—” I tried to explain to her, but I broke down and began crying my eye's out. I felt WaKirah's protective hands around my shoulders, while she comforted me but not even that was enough to sooth me. After what seemed like an eternity, my crying subsided and I wiped my tears away.

"I don't like doing it either but if I don't do it they will kill me, which is not a problem, because I'm one foot on earth and another in the grave anyways" WaKirah joked, trying to lighten the mood but she failed.

"What do you mean Wakirah?” I asked her. She looked at me and smiled so much hope in her eyes even though it seemed like there was none.

"I mean that, I'm HIV positive and I'm not taking care of myself properly like I'd like to” WaKirah explained. She played with her hands and looked away from Cindy.

"But why continue to —" I asked her, not understanding why any woman would put herself through such terrible circumstances.

"I sleep with men, most without using protection. Look I wish I had a choice, but when you are a slave, it is about what makes your master happy. Your feelings, not taken into considered at all. It’s a pity that most girls here will end up like me" Wakirah responded to me.

"So what do you think your boss will do to me?” I asked her, fearfully awaiting her reply.

"I don't know. I have a feeling that you are not just some ordinary girl, you are special and I just know it. Now I have to go but be prepared, because the boss will be checking up on you soon and don't give him problems, he won't hesitate to take your life on the spot" WaKirah responded to me, leaving me with mixed reaction to what she had just told me. She stood up from the floor and she walked to the far end corner of the room to tend to the other women and children.

I turned my attention to the young women and children, I admired how Wakirah had tended to them as though she was their caregiver and that touched my heart.

Never once in my life have I thought that I will be a slave, a prostitute or even a beggar. I dreamed of something better than this, to go to the city, get a better education and earn enough money to take care of my mother and sibling. However, here I was, uncertain about where my life was headed and if I would even make it out of this.

I had always wanted to become a teacher, to help many young women like myself to get a better education. Here was, in a city that I did not know of and in a different continent. I looked up at the tiny window and even the little light streaming through could not give me the amount of hope I was hoping for.

I lied down onto the concrete floor and shut my eyes, I did not know what kind of dreams I would dream tonight but I hoped that it was not nightmares. I thought of my family and how they were fairing and how they were coping without me.

I kept wondering how my uncle would react to the news of me running away. What seemed like a good plan at first had landed me in bigger trouble than I thought; I literally jumped out of the pot and into the fire.

I thought of all the things that I could have done, other than to run away but then it hit me that I had no other option than to run away.