|As the Dove Flies
Author: CrypticMoonFang PM
Trafficking Awareness Fic. Graphic. Maron becomes the victim of human trafficking.Rated: Fiction T - English - Hurt/Comfort/Romance - Chiaki & Maron - Chapters: 3 - Words: 7,190 - Reviews: 5 - Favs: 4 - Follows: 3 - Updated: 09-25-11 - Published: 09-22-11 - id: 7402818
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Maron had been gone for days now. She had been transported illegally to an entirely different country. It really wasn't her fault. She had been minding her own business. She had been passing time by having a casual conversation with Fin, her best friend and partner. Suddenly, and without any warning whatsoever, a total of five people had leapt through her bedroom window and grabbed her. She struggled and fought, and she knew she'd dealt some painful blows, but they overpowered her easily. Fin was an angel; she couldn't help at all. She was too weak to do anything but try to get help. It was truly unfortunate that no one but Maron, who was currently powerless, could hear her.
But when the brunette had been slammed into a wall (of her own accord, as she had managed just once to slip out of the their arms and into a wall) Fin had followed loyally as the strange men carried her away. She soon wished she hadn't. Why?
Because now Maron was the victim of what was known as human trafficking. They were in some kind of filthy, sweaty, dingy building that looked like it belonged in a war zone instead of in a town. Maron was in the process of being forcefully addicted to drugs so she could later be sold to disgusting men who only had one obvious thing on their mind.
Fin waited outside the "door" of Maron's stall. The place was either so unkempt or so low on budget that it had only stalls; the doors to these stall were actually just ripped curtains hanging over the entrance. Fin hated seeing what they were doing to her friend. She was powerless to stop them, but she wished she could help.
A man dressed in black came out with an empty needle in his hand. He traveled down the hallway a bit before putting the empty needle into another man's hand, one who was passing by collecting used needles, and pulled another one from his pocket. He uncapped it and entered a different stall. Almost immediately some other man passed by Maron's stall carrying a very limp body of a teenage girl. Fin had seen it all before. The girl he was carrying had died from overdose. They tried to drug the girls up so much that by the time they were ready to be sold, they didn't know whether it was night or day, what their name was, or if they were standing up or laying down. Fin hoped Maron would resist as long as she could, but every time she went in, Maron's condition seemed to get worse and worse.
Fin went in only for the sake of her friend.
By now, after days of being kept cooped up in some foreign building with dim lighting, Maron had been drugged so many times she didn't even know where she was at anymore. She usually got confused ad when that happened her words came out jumbled up. She started speaking irrationally sometimes, other times she just spoke a bunch of jargon. Sweaty strands of hair hung over her face. She didn't even notice. No matter what the temperature was, she was always sweating. She usually spent her time sitting on the bench that the men forced the girls to sit on while they injected them with some kind of drug-Fin didn't know what it was, only that it killed girls and made their mental stability drop rapidly. Sometimes she stood up but because she had no idea what she was doing, she either fell down or fell back onto the bench. Maron always shook, but Fin wasn't sure if it was from fear or the drug.
"Maron," she whispered. She didn't need to whisper; no one but Maron could hear her. She did it so the brunette could be comforted if comfort was possible.
"It's okay," Maron's faint voice came.
Fin rushed to stand on her lap, as she had been doing ever since Maron was brought here. "Feeling any better today?"
"No, no. It's not okay. We have to get out of here," she said. It wasn't going to work, though. Maron wasn't the strong-willed girl she used to be. She'd been drugged so many times she couldn't understand what was good or bad anymore. This is where Fin tried her best to keep her friend's mind in check; hopefully someone would come by one day and discover where the two pals had been "hiding". Until then Fin had to keep Maron fighting.
"What is your name?" she asked, already knowing Maron no longer knew her own name.
See? Nothing she would say ever made sense anymore. She was lucky to remember one phrase, but now...now it was all she could do to repeat it even if she couldn't comprehend what she was saying.
"Maron. Your name is Maron Kusakabe. Say it."
"Say your name."
"Maron, count from one to two." Normally this would be a stupid thing to say, but about two or three days ago, she had lost the ability to think properly, so she couldn't count to two. It was especially frustrating for Fin, who was trying her best to help Maron get through this.
Fin was sick of hearing the same thing over and over; she was so sick of what this drug was making her do. It wasn't fair to either of them. When the angel had left, she hadn't tried to find someone who could hear her, such as another angel. Access may have been an "okay-ish" choice, but he was bad. He'd probably be laughing at their agony right now. She could already hear him and Sinbad, laughing cruelly at Maron for surrendering herself to a liquid, and at Fin for being so weak.
Another drugged up girl came stumbling into Maron's stall. She was newer, and hadn't been here as long. She started muttering things that made more sense than what Maron had been saying in the past five days (she had been here a total of twenty-one days). She was saying something about confusion and where she was at and how long she'd been away from home. Fin felt bad for this girl. It wouldn't take too long before she would loose her mind to the drug, just like Maron and every other girl here had. Some of them were new, but the ones who weren't didn't even try to stand up much anymore. This brave soldier had tried to walk!
Maron, as if trying to speak back, murmured, "Yeah."
The girl who had walked in was pulled out of the stall and could be heard screaming violently as she was dragged back into her own stall. Nobody bothered to try to muffle the scream, they just let her make as much noise as she wanted. They knew it was futile to call out for help; no one was coming. It was like all the poor girls here had been forgotten and left for dead.
Just as the curtain was fluttering back down, Fin saw another corpse, being dragged across the filthy floor unceremoniously by another man dressed in a brown T-shirt and what looked like dark blue jeans.
Fin feared for Maron's life. If she continued to be drugged, she might end up like those dead girls. Her lifeless body could be the next thing to leave this building. One shot. One more injection. One more, and that could be the one that went too far.
Fin wanted to hug Maron, to give her a little friendly kiss on the forehead to tell her it would be okay, that they would get out together, alive. But she was afraid that if she did that, she might end up getting some of her sweat in her mouth and become addicted to the drug that intertwined itself with every ounce of her friend's body. It wouldn't help either of the two if Fin, the only one in the building who was still sane, became one of the addicts. And yes, even angels could get addicted to drugs.
Fin flapped her wings a few times, lifting herself into the air and over the curtain, leaving the stall that held her friend captive. It was nearing time for another injection. Tears were brought to eyes as she thought about how quickly Maron was deteriorating. Soon (if she lived, that is) she would be ready to be auctioned off, and if Fin failed to keep up with her when she was transported away, there was an extremely high chance the two would never meet again.
For now it was all Fin could do to pray for Maron. She prayed earnestly, hoping God would hear her desperate pleas, hoping He would sense her distress and torment. The Jun-Tenshi prayed about everything now, relying more on God's strength than ever before. She prayed that help would come soon, that this injection wouldn't kill Maron, that she wouldn't actually be ready to be auctioned soon.
Right when she was done praying, as if on cue, the man with the lethal drug-filled needle walked casually into Maron's stall. The poor girl was too messed up from all the previous injections to know what was going on. She really couldn't escape. She couldn't struggle, scream, or run. All she could do was sit on the cheap wooden bench as the man took her arm and slid the needle skillfully into her skin. Once the shot was empty, he pulled it out and walked away, not caring to put a band-aid over the newest mark on her arm. The place where they always injected the girls at was right where the joints of the arm, in between the upper and lower arm. That place, on Maron at least, was flecked with little red and bruised dots, showing off how many shots she'd had.
The little angel wished Maron had the sense to act dead, to do anything to try to get away from this horrible place. But she had been drugged as soon as she arrived here. Once the drugs started taking effect, the victim's mind became jumbled and the person was left without common sense. The drugs wouldn't let anyone fake.
The Jun-Tenshi sniffled, wiped away her tears, and went back in to support the disoriented brunette. As usual, Maron' head hung down, her arm hanging limp at her side, her hand facing upward and her fingers curled slightly. The day she'd been taken from society, she would have spit at this image. And yet here she was now, just barely clinging to life. She went down fighting at least... But now Maron was more confused than most of the other girls here. Now she was truly endangered. Fin knew her beloved friend only had maybe five to ten more doses left, and then after that she'd either die or be sold.
Because she was an angel, she could call upon another angel for help, but only if the other angel was on Earth. So far, the only one she knew to be on Earth was Access. He was bad. Even still...she had no choice. Fin didn't know which would be worse, Maron being sold off as a sex slave or dying from overdose of illegal drugs. She had no other option but to rely on Access. And if he chose not to help...well...if he chose not to help, then it was all over for Maron.