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Escaping the bottomless of the hell

 


Written in September 2019

It wasn't our choice. Being imprisoned in a house belongs to a certain army organization was my worst nightmare ever, meanwhile, we started to have fun as girls, and make everything around looks much spirited. 


Bathroom parts were the best, dreary women enter with giant bags of make up and well-hidden champagne bottles, pouring themselves a drink and smoking smuggled weed in bathtubs, while sitting on toilet seats and crouching on the floor. 

When each female falls to 'screwed up' mood, they gather making a circle shape, and begin playing card games with mindless heads, laughing loudly no matter what and getting themselves back to bed.


 We wake up every day with an abusive treatment, putting our uniforms on, offended by those satan's slaves. 

We work for them, forced as it seems obviously. 


We're ignorant but ain't stupid, so we all take remunerative salaries after getting messions completely fulfilled, the reason why we buy those things secretly and sneaking with them to bathroom every Thursday night.

 Well, we're spies, jugglers as they constantly call us, moreover hate speeches we receive back even without complaining. 


One night there was a curfew and we were prevented from walking outside, they thought we should get our needs satisfied a night before so we couldn't be able to exit the building. 

Thanks to false storm report, me and two escaped after packing our bags fully and then safely leave without being cowards like the ones lying in there smoking shit and laughing repeating the same scenario a several times, like adapting to it.

 As long as they keep themselves captivated gaining wealth from being fucking jugglers and getting their desires filled, they mark freedom as a spam thing. We seeked for the moment we get out for ever and ever but that was the tenth attempt, I hoped we find our way to freedom, to families, friends and life.


 I didn't know what kind of fates I would meet minutes before reaching the port, the furthest one, I assumed. 

A drunk deviant was trying to find his victim, I barely was.

 He followed me feet by feet and deeply down inside I was about to pee. I reached a small structure in the town and he was two streets behind due to drinking conditions.


 I rang a bell of a particular door waiting it heavily to be opened, it was midnight already and most people were sleeping, but I'd resist until they response.

 My feet was struggling to stand steady, and finally a forty aged woman opened the door with one eye closed asking me if everything was okay, I avoided her and broke into her apartment without a permission, but I promised to tell her everything when she brings me hot chocolate and turns the lights on.

 Whole story was told excepting the job details, she was kind and helpful as well she kept me in till the morning and brought me biscuits and canned milk, and that was really my last attempt, I reached the port, stepped on the ship that launched on time, and now I'm meeting new people, hiding my fake identity and even the real one and making myself a new life with a cool job and cool apartment either. 


The way we find freedom isn't easy but it requires time, passion and determination. Don't ever miss your choice, the one totally suits you.

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