My first memory of my life is of a large dirty room that I shared with other girls around the same age as me, they were either in the same situation that I was in or much worse. We lived in a dorm-like setting made within a factory, with a large auditorium that was divided into our bedroom, the place where we ate, and the recreation area. I never knew my parents or anyone else in my family. My main memories of my childhood consisted of daily beatings, the rats and the roaches, and the constant need to run away to someplace safe, away for the horror that I was made to experience in this place day after day.
The visitors that came to visit were potential adoptive families so we were told, however, the problem was that these men were often dirty old men who would look at us as if we were sundaes with sprinkles and chocolate syrup on a hot summer day. These men would gawk at us because we were made to wear these dresses that were so short and tight that it made breathing hard in them. We were made to stand in front of these old men as they gave us orders to turn around, bend over and touch our toes, and my favorite one, let them see our teeth as if we were horses out in the pasture waiting to be broken-in. The girls that left that place with some of these men have been reported in the news as being dead or simply missing.
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