My Name is Next.
This “woman” dropped me off with some people who were of the same treacherous tribe. I became a missing persons. I ended up with hundreds of other kids and young adults cattled in some warehouse. They approached these men one by one. Every time they would access the flesh and scream NEXT!! A young blonde girl walks up who looks like some child from the back of those milk cartoons. He looks at her, pushes her toward the next level of Dante’s Hell and screams NEXT! Another girl walks up, barely speaks English. Looks like one of those pretty Mexican girls from some small village. Like most of the other girls in the warehouse, she can’t understand him. All I care is that you understand what you must do, he tells her. He pushes her off. NEXT, Another young girl. This time he doesn’t say NEXT. He motions to 2 other men and says: “Teach her a Lesson”. For the next 5 hours all we heard were her screams. Oh God, I am NEXT! I stood in front of him not knowing what kind of plans were in store. We stayed in this warehouse for God know how long. They gave us little food and allowed little talk. I would hear torturous screams and sob. I was put in isolation . They were in the process of breaking us into sex slaves. One day a truck came for a bunch of us. They took us to the place that represented death- the desert. We were told to wear the negligee provided so training could start. Someone knocked at the door and I find myself shivering in 117 degree weather. This man walks in and I clocked him as he came into the room. Little did I know that my trafficker was behind him. Let’s just say that I know why those little girls in the warehouse shrieked now. When I woke up from that nightmare, I found myself in a darker nightmare. I was being raped by several men. All I heard was NEXT. Whose next? My soul was being raped out of my body. NEXT! This continued for hours. It was a wicked dance of beasts cannibalizing my body. NEXT! What kind of sick men get hard-ons from a carcass! Do you understand? I was just flesh lying there. NEXT? When I heard the last NEXT, nobody was there. I lifted my sore body off of the table and looked at the broken mirror across from me. NEXT, I heard again. Nothing. This time I uttered NEXT and in the reflection in front of me, I saw a vaporous image that would not be clear again for some years to come . . .
This is just an example of what is in my book, if you're intrigued please help suppot my publishing cause. Every contribution will help raise awareness, educate communities, inspire hope and reovery outlet to survivors of all types of abuse and also assist NGO's and Law Enforcement who work so tirelessly to combat this issue. Help me make a difference. Thank you! -C. Kim, 2013