I remembered clearly.
It was the first night at the beginning of the new year when I sneaked out of the Shelly House,a place where they keep us as slaves.
We are breeds, girls who give motherless babies our breast milk and give birth to children for the wealthy to buy. That was the only way for us to stay alive.
I had snuck out that night because I was starving. I was only nine.
I walked and walked tirelessly until I came across a mango tree. It had so many leaves, and I could tell at once the fruit was ripe because of how green and juicy it looked. I tried to climb up to pluck one, but I was too short, too inexperienced. So I decided to go back to Shelly House and find someone willing to risk it for me.
But then something happened.
It felt like something suddenly took over my body. My eyes blurred. I panicked. I looked down and rubbed at them in fear. After what felt like ten minutes, I slowly opened them again.
To my relief, my vision had returned. I gave a small smile.
But when I turned to leave... my smile dropped.
And I nearly had a heart attack.
Something was standing right in front of me. I don't know how it got so close without me hearing a thing. But one glance, and I knew,this was not human.
I don't know much about height, but I swear it stood over ten feet tall. It was hairy, and its feet were so large they could crush a tree. I couldn't bring myself to look up at its face, but I saw its eyes. They were glowing — bright red — and aimed right at me.
I didn't scream. I didn't run.
I took one step back. Then another. And another.
The moment I was a few meters away, I ran.
I didn't look back. I just wanted to make it back to the house.
---
"Where have you been? It's time," Angel, our hostel president, said, letting out a sigh of relief the moment she saw me walk into the house.
I understood what she meant immediately. I tried to tell her what I had seen, but every time I opened my mouth, someone interrupted.
"Tell me later," she whispered. "There's no time."
The inspectors were here. The buyers were here. Newborn babies were crying.
And worst of all — we weren't just breeds. We were being trained to sleep with men. To make more babies. Not just the ones brought in from outside.
Everyone started running out of their rooms. No one could be late — not by a single second.
Once it was time, we had to be in line already. Heads down. Unless the president is around and ready to give a speech,all dressed in white, you have to face the floor with your hair tied or knotted to the back. We stood in different rows.
Each time we were called to line up, it meant one of two things:
They were either changing our rooms — or worse, changing our positions.
The ones who breastfed.
The ones who were forced to sleep with men.
The ones who cared for the babies.
The ones who would be sold off as slaves.
And those they would "take care of" — raise us properly, until we became just like the older girls.
Except… when we see our first period.
The moment a girl got her monthly visitor, she was removed from the lower bridge. That means you are no longer a child.
---
When we gathered at the hall, I looked around for my closest roommate.
But she was nowhere to be found.
My heart raced — not showing up meant serious punishment.
"Oh no," I whispered under my breath as I saw her — standing next to the President.
The founder of the Shelly House.
I knew instantly what had happened. She had gotten her first monthly visitor. It was time for her to leave the lower bridge.
The moment the president announced it, everyone clapped. Smiling. Wishing her all the best.
But while the others clapped for her...
I couldn't.
This wasn't something to celebrate.
We weren't free. We didn't know what would happen next. We didn't live for ourselves.
This...
This was the real definition of hell.