“I was just visiting family,” she thought, “this can’t be happening to me.”
The smell of human feces kept her stomach turning and the constant sickness made it hard to think. She had tried to band the enslaved women together but met defeat leaving two dead and the rest accepting their fate. There had to be a way out, something else she could do.
She heard a crane outside and the conex began to move. A loud noise indicated something went wrong. She felt weightless as the muck from the floor floated around her, never hearing the screams of the other women as they took their final breath before drowning.
Her husband had warned her of the dangers of human trafficking in Eastern Europe; she told him he was paranoid. He waited at the airport for days, refusing to accept her absence. That was a year ago; he still answers every phone call expecting to hear the sound of her voice, devastated every time it’s somebody else.