Page 76 of Pushed

Eighty thousand dollars. . .

That's my worth.

What should you feel when you actually have a value placed on your body? What should flow through your veins when you hear the amount that someone is willing to pay for you?

I had gone from a woman into a retail object meant for sexual destruction and emotional distress.

There was no feeling, only hatred.

And as a man I had never seen before came to the edge of the stage, he held his hand out towards me, wiggling his fingers. His hair was dusk red, his eyes dull and moss green as his lips formed a tortured smile and his cheeks blushed cherry red.

“Go on, Love, meet your new master,” The announcer said as he waved me away. “Next up. . .” His words trailed off as the room went silent around me.

I couldn't hear any more voices or sounds as a vortex opened up and swallowed me whole. Change was all around me as I stared at the man who was willing to pay for a slave, willing to allow the devil to claim his soul as he claimed mine.

Walking towards him, I took one last look at where Machi had been standing, but he was gone. There was black air where he stood, his figure a mere presence in my mind.

I had lost everything in that moment; myself, my life, and the man that made me feel more human than I had ever felt before.

He was a ghost, a shadow in my memories. He was a face that would always be there when my eyes closed, he was a touch that would always wrap my skin, he was a voice that would always play in my ear.

And he would always own a piece of my heart.