My body ached and shivered as I lay down on the used mattress, motionless like a corpse. The atmosphere stank and I could smell an annoying stench of cigarettes coming from the corner of the room. I was sure that this room was where the gang members had fun with the women, and right now, this was what was about to happen to me.

The man hovering over me was not very much older, maybe about twenty. Tattoos filled his muscular body, giving me the impression he had to be from a rival gang.

I could not pay much attention to him or how they had described him as a “hunk”. My role was to serve him and obey him. I knew nothing of who he was and what he wanted from us. I, according to Sister Le, was a “peace offering”. They had sent me on this brutal task because I had what the other girls didn’t.

Observing how the rose on his shoulder intrigued me, he grabbed my chin and stared at me murderously. I was afraid, but I knew I had to accede to his demands. My life depended on it.

He must have sensed my fear, because he immediately released me and watched me up and down like a wolf marking its prey. I remained silent, praying that he would have what he wanted with me and then leave me alone.

No matter how beautiful his eyes were, or how he was the hunk according to the girls when face to face with someone that treats you like an object, how could you even feel any attraction for him? The only emotion that lingered around me was fear. Fear wrapped around me like a tight scarf, choking me. My eyes filled with tears as I broke out again and again with cold sweat.

It was my first ever experience with a man and I knew it had to be brutal. I said not a word about how it was my first time or that they forced me against my will. And all the more I kept mum about the fact I was, in fact, underaged. I would not turn eighteen for another five months.

I heard his voice for the first time, gentler than how I had expected it to be. He cursed and swore. I expected this to be what men in the gang were like. With one swift movement, he pushed me against the wall and tore off my robe. I bit down on my lips hard and closed my eyes. They ordered me that no matter how it would hurt, I could not make a single sound.

I felt his body on mine briefly before two coarse hands parted my legs forcefully. Pain swirled in my mind as I came to terms with what was about to happen. With little choice in the matter, I was about to be ravaged by a maniac who had regarded me as a prostitute.

The man’s strength was brutal. I wept incessantly, as my ordeal felt like hours on end. But not a single word left my lips, as all I could smell was the man’s body atop mine. He was young and ferocious, never stopping as he subjected my small body to his torture. At one point I thought I was going to break into pieces, or even die.

But then he came to a stop and began stroking my hair gently, bewildering me as I opened my eyes.

“What’s your name?”

I just glanced downwards at the bloodstained sheets, appearing very calm despite my stinging eyes and the sharp pain in my lower abdomen.

“Scarlet,” I uttered bitterly as I brought up all my strength to get up. He seemed to watch me as I dressed in a rush and left the room.

“I am Hansen,” I heard him speak as I pulled the door shut. “We will meet again.”

In my heart, I hoped he never would appear in my life again.