Traffick

Derek's POV:

Deep furrows lined my brows as I noticed Mendez checking the women out. The air was filled with the foreboding waves of laughter of the traffickers as they watched people fall and groan in pain. Many of them slapped the asses of the young and helpless women. What they wanted was obvious. It reminded me of myself when I was in my late teens. I chuckled. The women here would be on my bed by now. But staring at them now didn't interest me anymore. I preferred her pussy and could imagine her naked with her legs spread as I entered the room. Fuck, I was getting hard at the thought of it. I lost my smile decades ago after the struggles I had to go through and all the nightmares I'd had.

I used to believe I deserved all the pain I was going through and every bit of it. Believing that I deserved to die for not being strong enough to protect my family. But now that I think about it, how could a 10-year-old have protected his parents in a situation like that? An unpredictable one. It was as though life was toying with me, like life made it a duty to torture me, and refused to let him go.

"I think I'll take her." Mendez had his eyes on a young girl, nothing less than 21. She was terrified even as he gripped her hand and pulled her to himself. He had a very foreboding grin on his face, I feared for the girl because I knew that look. I used that look on every pretty lady I saw, now I use it on one woman. Sometimes I remembered what my father had told me. From the pain that I was witnessing the slaves going through. I recalled every bit of his word. 'There is no pain for the dead. If you don't feel pain anymore, no matter what comes at you, know that you're a dead man.' Now I understood the meaning of those words. In the mafia world, it was better to be dead than killed. It was better to be heartless.

I felt a drop of water on my face. With the dim sky gazing at me. It was apparently about to rain. I observed as some slaves sluggishly moved their arms about the floor trying to feel the earth. It was moist and cold. It came to my mind that they wished they could just lay there all day...what was the point of getting up?

With an iota of hope left in them, they managed to get up with no support. I noticed the pain on their faces as they rose.

‘There's nothing more important to me right now than the slaves. They've suffered so many predicaments for fifteen years already and would continue on that way if something isn't done about it.’ I remembered my mother's words.

I wondered what it was that she intended to do. She didn't love my father. She hated everything he did and she was bought from the traffickers as well. She told me what it was like. And even after it all, I still followed in my father's footsteps.

‘You know how many years I've watched these slave masters capture innocent people and use them as slaves. You don't know how they tried to release them, but we refused to escape because we feared the slave masters more. They were filled with so many tricks. Even the master of the traffickers tortured us more than anything. He raped the women he found attractive, he killed the people he wanted to kill. He had the final say.

‘The people feared he would kill them if they escaped and therefore remained where they thought safe.’ She turned to me. "Derek, these slaves may also be like that, every group of slaves I have encountered are like that. They need more than just words to assure them that they will be safe. Grave has them in his clutches as long as they fear him. We have to show them that we have handed something much more important to Grave than slaves so that they would have the courage to escape.’

‘And what would that be?’ I asked her.

‘The grave fears no one. It's the most popular thing even in the mafia world. Death. You have to be an easy target for all of them. ’

‘Mum, do the slaves matter to you that much to risk your life so much ?’ She gave me only a faint smile.

‘You know how many years I've watched these slave masters capture innocent people and use them as slaves. I remember how we had found a way of escape but still, refused to escape because they feared the slave masters more. Your father was one of the manipulators.'

‘The people feared he would kill them if they escaped and therefore remained where they thought safe.’ He paused. ‘These slaves may also be like that, every group of slaves I have encountered are like that. They need more than just words to assure them that they will be safe. Your father has them in his clutches as long as they fear him. Promise me that you will never be like your father."

'I promise.'

I didn't expect that it was going to be the last time that I would see her. Now all I could see was her shadow in her dream.

I twisted my neck sideways and earned a cracking sound. Her words meant a whole lot to me. But it only did in the past. It was her dream to stop trafficking, but my father had stopped her. Then she handed that responsibility over to me. But I had no choice. Trafficking had done a whole lot for me even in earning millions of dollars. My mother's wish became meaningless to me when I saw the influence of power. I had to keep my eyes on Mendez. He did seem like that version of me. My mother's words kept echoing in my mind. She never wanted me to be this kind of person. I didn't want to be this type of person, but I had no other choice. If I hadn't become this man, I would have gotten killed a long time ago. I wouldn't even be where I am today. The kind of influence that I have right now was all because I chose to be one thing and that is heartless. Trafficking, like my father, gained me that much influence in the mafia. And like everyone else, I didn't have that much of a choice. So I could only feel guilty each time I remembered my mother. She hated this because she was a part of it. But each time I thought to myself that I would quit this, I ended up diving even deeper into it.

But I'm sorry mother. I became my father.