"Your past doesn't define but gives you the starting point for who you were going to be."
I once saw that somewhere on a motivational poster. For most people, this it's some quote that changes their entire life. It doesn't for me mainly because I haven't been average for a long time. For me, this quote tells me to do the exact opposite. If I ever do tell people of my story I don't want them to be inspired by it or saddened. When I die it will be as a sinner, not a hero or martyr. But like I said before I was average once. It all started 11 years ago.
I lived with my aunts for most of my life. My mother died during childbirth, and my dad wasn't the best parent. My aunts on my father's side and her spouse took care of me. They supported me through thick and thin and raised me to whom I am. I had a few friends in school and college. I was always an introvert and abrasive. Some people thought I was mean. I'd say I just wanted to cut to the chase quicker. Plus I'd never been interested in relationships, so that didn't help in the long run. Ever still for a long time my best friend my cousin Jonas Walters.
He was the brother I never had. He was about seven years younger than me. He always wanted to be the cool kid in school but often at the expense of what was important. I've been keeping track of his whereabouts recently, and he became a lawyer and from what I've seen a good one. I only wished that I got to see him grow into such a splendid man. I only wish I did a lot of things differently.
One of the few traits I carried over the years was my willingness to help others in need. In my younger years, I'd learn stories of real-life heroes that would rise above tragedy. That was why I wanted to be a combat medic. That is why I went to medical school. I passed college and medical school with relative ease. The dissections were by far the worst part. I lost my lunch on my first one. I was 25 when I had what I need to join the military. I will admit military training was a different story; it was difficult and I barely passed. MMA was hard to get used too. Still, I made it, and it was a little fun. I made a couple of friends there. My superior, Jasmine was an enormous Digimon fun, and we'd often talk. The military was something I enjoyed. Titan was big and crazy there was always some new ridiculous threat to take care of. However, in the military everything was so routine and we took care of each other. Sadly those quiet days soon were replaced with the sound of gunfire. I remember sitting in my bunk where I was just about finishing a call with Jonas.
"Don't spend your time idly in college you. Stay above your grades and oh yeah make sure you stay away from frats they are a nightmare. "
"Jeez, you are the master of ridding peoples cases, aren't you? I'll be fine I' already got it all figured out. Those professors won't know what hit them. "
"Fine, tell the parental units hi for me. Tell them I'm doing fine."
Before I was about to go to sleep, I heard a knock on my dorm. I opened it to see Jasmine standing there. I remember having strawberry blond hair cut short.
"C'mon, were moving."
We just started a tour in Afghanistan to try and stop the trade of some sort with two very hostile groups know for less than good purposes. Now we were finally getting ready. I went quickly to my station as my body tensed. Here came the scary part. The part in which you know if you screw up for even a second you could end up dooming someone's fate. That was always a thought I didn't relish. Jasmine was a good friend and luckily gave me something, so I could update on their missions and to make sure I had the supplies up and ready for the injured. Over time the updates were getting worse.
The trade was being conducted was the Taleban (a criminal group famous in Afghanistan and Pakistan.) and some group calling themselves The Nexus. Jasmine explained soon enough that in return for drugs the Nexus would bring them... help. There is not a day goes by where I wish what happened next didn't. I heard the sound of a gun cock: crap and a half.
"Turn around slowly. I don't want to have to he hurt a potential coworker."
The last thing I heard on my comm-link was the sound of gunfire. The next hour is spent getting beaten up as the Taleban asked for information. Like any other soldier, I gave them my name, rank, serial number and not piss off. I brace myself for another hit until they suddenly stopped and snickered until a large Arab man in desert camo comes up and smiles with a smug outlook.
Hello, young Fatat saghira (little girl) my name is Aman (peaceful), and I have to say I'm impressed."
"I don't give a damn about your opinion! What the hell did you to my team!"
He slaps me like I was a dog. I spit up blood toward the ground.
"You're not in a position to make demands here saghira, so I ask you again. Tell me why you're here or else you die. Fast or slow it's your choice."
"Go ahead and shoot that gun. I am not giving you the least bit of information."
"I do hate when they get snappy. Fine, then I'll ask your friend. "
He snapped his fingers to bring a tied up Jasmine. They held a gun to her head as she sobbed. His smug smile grew wider; the more my rage grew.
"I always do like them tied up. I would hate for something to happen to her. Now surrender and say you're sorry."
I bit down my tongue. With my seething rage, I apologized and explained my purpose. I swear Aman was getting off on that.
"Good, once recognize the rules here I swear I can make your new arrangement so much easier if you stay submissive.'
He knocks me out and at that moment was only the start of my relationship with pain. We joined the slaves that The Nexus brought over so we could help with the production of the Taleban drugs. Cocaine, Marijuana, heroin, you named we fostered it. The only way to get any real food was to pay in sexual favors essentially. Either way that didn't stop some of the men from forcing themselves on me. The fact I was asexual made the men even happier. Every day was a fresh new hell. My bloodlust grew to unfathomable levels until my hands shook with anticipation. I couldn't handle it the pain; the humiliation was almost too much to bear. The only mercies we were given was they would provide us with the bare necessities so we could be more effective slaves. The food was crap but slightly nourishing, and we even had a bed. It made the whole decor of the cages so much better. The greatest mercy was mere that we were together. None of the other prisoners could speak our language, and if they did, they didn't care. Most were either broken or just lost all hope. Sometimes we wouldn't sleep cry until morning. As the weeks turned to months, I remember one day finding Jasmine with a sharp shiv. Her eyes were so dead that I sensed what could happen.
"I'm sorry Sarah, I'm so sorry I got you into this hellhole. I want this to end Sarah. I want it to end it as a human. Not some old dog that will get put down."
I remember those stories I read about how my ancestors would have their freedoms taken and turned into slaves. However, I know about those great men and women that were born in the face of such a tragedy. Harriet Tubman, Fredrick Douglass: these were my heroes. I didn't know it at first, but I knew I was going to survive. For better or worse. I lay there and said to Jasmine.
"Listen to me Jasmine we will get out of here someday. I know it's hard to hold not to give up. We're going to make these bastards pay with their lives no matter what. Do you hear me?"
"Yeah, Sarah we will."
Thus our plan began. For weeks we went around every inch of our prison. We also stole anything that could be used as a weapon. In a month, we had made a small arsenal of shivs and a couple of pressurized balls of the highest-grade cocaine. Then suddenly I heard a smack. I saw a woman on the floor high in the sky as two men with guns started to beat her. No one did anything. They stood there paralyzed with fear. My hands tingled with bloodlust until my mind snapped. My ears roared. I pulled out my shiv and then like some animal I stabbed the neck one of the men. I imagined the shiv penetrated the third and fourth cervical vertebrae and on to the Anterior Longitudinal Interior (bones in the neck). Then on pure instinct, I give the man a paralyzing look, and like a demon, I tear his jugular out.
That was the moment that changed my life forever. My first kill, one of many. My senses came back to me as I realized what I've done. I had broken my oath as a licensed medical practitioner. I didn't feel any despair or regret. After seven months of rape, humiliation and slave labor I finally had the power again. Power over life and death. It felt great. I threw away my gloves to get some that weren't covered in blood, but I knew that I had screwed up everything. It was only a matter of time until someone gave me away. So to avoid any more strife I faced Aman head on. I walked towards him with fiery determination. He looked at me with complete displeasure and I actually kind of liked that. I had finally got under his skin. He quickly regained his composure and continued his smile.
"You know I always love to try out new ways of disciplining certain unruly workers. However, sometimes I like the old ways too."
He brought me towards a dungeon where I heard a couple of screams from crazed women. I may not have understood their language, but I could certainly get the message. These women were profoundly broken. And in a sense so was I. He brought me to the cell and put me in chains. He then grabbed a whip and played with it.
"I admire your will little girl. I never thought that you would ever try to rebel against your masters. I thought I had done an excellent job breaking you. But I was wrong. You may not look at me now girl, but I am still a man that learns from his mistakes, and that mistake will not be repeated. I'm going to beat you until your a broken mess and dump your body it at the other slaves as a lesson. And I will begin that lesson now."
In a single stroke, he hit me with the whip twice. My rage completely evaporated into pain. I howled in agony and whimpered and sobbed. Pain seared through my very being until I blacked out. Next thing I know my ears are ringing with gunfire as Jasmine is suddenly next to me balling her eyes out.
" It's okay Sarah. It's okay Titan is here."
I could barely string any of my thoughts together. Nonetheless, she picked me up and carried me repeating everything was going to be okay. Too bad this was only the beginning of my little odyssey. Then, however, I heard the crackle of fire followed by the sound of explosions. The building comes apart as my world suddenly comes back together again. I could stand on my still, and we were almost out. The buildings support soon gave way, and in a last ditch effort, she did one thing I regret even towards now. She saved me by pushing me out the form. She died so I could survive, an utter demon .
After everything that I'd been through I had managed to get myself a plane back home in a week. My back still hurts but I at least it won't get infected. I was so close to the plane, but then I remember Jasmine's death, Aman's smile, and my bloodlust. It sensed that he was still alive. If I knew what was in a store, I would have turned back, but then again this was all in the past. On that day I made a promise that in a way molded me into who I am now. I promised on Jasmine's grave I would tear through anyone I had to make sure that my dream became a reality. I will take everything from Aman and humiliate him just like he did me. He will suffer a thousandfold what I experienced and then I will destroy him utterly.