gang. Soon they will transport me and the other girls across Europe to Italy. She said they have my passport and I must do as they say. She told me how they had killed other girls’ family members when they disobeyed them. I do not want to listen to her, but I have to. The seventy-five-year-old mother of one of the girls who tried to escape was strung up from a tree and hanged. The seven-year-old daughter of one of the girls who tried to escape was tortured. She had all her nails and teeth pulled out with pliers before being stabbed a hundred times. On and on she went, telling me horrific things like that.
I forced the bile down in my throat and willed the tears not to fall. I cannot show weakness, they will try to use it against me.
As she left the room, she smirked at me. ‘Night night,’ she said, even though it must be daytime.
As I drain the last of the water, I finally know what she meant. I am feeling very sleepy now and must hide my diary.
I think they have drugged me.
Day 4
There will be some days when I cannot write in here. Yesterday was one of those days. I woke up in a van with six other girls. There were two men in the front of the van, and Andrei’s friend was driving. I recognized one of the men’s voices. He was the one who raped the crying girl in the room near mine. The Rapist has a shaved head and a big, bulky body. He has blue eyes that seem to stare right through you, and his teeth are wonky and stained. The second man is taller and even bigger than the Rapist. He puffed on a cigarette continuously and chatted to the others friends about football and gambling.
I was still dopey when we came to the border with Romania, but I tried to force myself awake. I glanced at girls around me who were still asleep. I thought that surely the immigration guards would know something was wrong and stop us. Wouldn’t they find the van suspicious? Wouldn’t they rescue us? I wanted to be alert so when they arrested the gang of men, I would be able to get home to my mother and Liliana as quickly as possible.
As we drew along side the immigration booth a guard got out and spoke to Andrei’s friend through the driver’s window. The Rapist handed a collection of passports to the guard, who barely flicked through them before peering into the small window at the back of the van where I was sitting. For a second my eyes connected with his, and I could see a brief flicker of sadness and pity etched into his face. At that moment I knew he knew what was happening to us. I held his gaze, tempted to mouth the words, “Help me”. Then he quickly turned away from me and waved the truck on, and I knew it would have done no good anyway. You cannot transport so many girls a year from Moldova to other countries to be sex slaves without the border guards or people high up knowing about it. I wondered how they would feel if it happened to their daughters or sisters or wives. Would they feel the same then?
I rested my head against the window, staring out at the endless road ahead for what felt like half a day. Some of the other girls had started to wake up by now and it was the first time we got to look into each other’s eyes. I know my own desperation and dread must have been mirrored in theirs, and I could smell the fear on their bodies. I wanted to ask them who they were. Who had they trusted that got them in this situation? What was their story? But none of us spoke. To speak meant it was real.
Andrei’s friend pulled the van over at the side of the road and gave us all more water laced with drugs, forcing us to drink it. I did not want to drink it, but what choice did I have? I knew when I woke up things would be worse.
Soon after the liquid entered my system I felt sleep threatening to overtake me again. I closed my eyes and imagined myself with Liliana, my arms around her fragile body and my lips resting on top of her head. I could almost smell her shampoo.
Her face was the last thing I saw before I
I forced the bile down in my throat and willed the tears not to fall. I cannot show weakness, they will try to use it against me.
As she left the room, she smirked at me. ‘Night night,’ she said, even though it must be daytime.
As I drain the last of the water, I finally know what she meant. I am feeling very sleepy now and must hide my diary.
I think they have drugged me.
Day 4
There will be some days when I cannot write in here. Yesterday was one of those days. I woke up in a van with six other girls. There were two men in the front of the van, and Andrei’s friend was driving. I recognized one of the men’s voices. He was the one who raped the crying girl in the room near mine. The Rapist has a shaved head and a big, bulky body. He has blue eyes that seem to stare right through you, and his teeth are wonky and stained. The second man is taller and even bigger than the Rapist. He puffed on a cigarette continuously and chatted to the others friends about football and gambling.
I was still dopey when we came to the border with Romania, but I tried to force myself awake. I glanced at girls around me who were still asleep. I thought that surely the immigration guards would know something was wrong and stop us. Wouldn’t they find the van suspicious? Wouldn’t they rescue us? I wanted to be alert so when they arrested the gang of men, I would be able to get home to my mother and Liliana as quickly as possible.
As we drew along side the immigration booth a guard got out and spoke to Andrei’s friend through the driver’s window. The Rapist handed a collection of passports to the guard, who barely flicked through them before peering into the small window at the back of the van where I was sitting. For a second my eyes connected with his, and I could see a brief flicker of sadness and pity etched into his face. At that moment I knew he knew what was happening to us. I held his gaze, tempted to mouth the words, “Help me”. Then he quickly turned away from me and waved the truck on, and I knew it would have done no good anyway. You cannot transport so many girls a year from Moldova to other countries to be sex slaves without the border guards or people high up knowing about it. I wondered how they would feel if it happened to their daughters or sisters or wives. Would they feel the same then?
I rested my head against the window, staring out at the endless road ahead for what felt like half a day. Some of the other girls had started to wake up by now and it was the first time we got to look into each other’s eyes. I know my own desperation and dread must have been mirrored in theirs, and I could smell the fear on their bodies. I wanted to ask them who they were. Who had they trusted that got them in this situation? What was their story? But none of us spoke. To speak meant it was real.
Andrei’s friend pulled the van over at the side of the road and gave us all more water laced with drugs, forcing us to drink it. I did not want to drink it, but what choice did I have? I knew when I woke up things would be worse.
Soon after the liquid entered my system I felt sleep threatening to overtake me again. I closed my eyes and imagined myself with Liliana, my arms around her fragile body and my lips resting on top of her head. I could almost smell her shampoo.
Her face was the last thing I saw before I
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