For months she had been hiding things. I few dollars here. An old, but valuable ring there. Little things that he would not notice. Insignificant things that would not warn him about her eventual escape.

Some may call her hiding of things theft, but she didn’t look at it that way. The items she had chosen were already hers. He had given them to her. So she couldn’t really steal what was hers, could she? And anyway, if it was that, she thought it was justified. After all, he had stolen her youth, her freedom and her life. Now, Mikhaila was taking it back before it was too late.

At age 15, Mikhaila had met her now husband and owner. He was an older foreigner with cruel eyes. He selected her over several other girls in the line up. She remembered how he stopped to look her over, up and down like she were a prized mare at a breeding show. She turned. She smiled. She look down at her feet demurely. Not just because that was what her owners said to do, but because she was afraid of this stranger’s penetrating glare.

He must have liked what he saw, because he bought her then and there. Right there in the line up, he stated, “This one. She will be my wife.” Mikhaila cringed inside, but outwardly smiled and glanced up with a bow to her new master who was 10 years her senior. Then, her and her friends were paraded around for a few more minutes for show and herded out of sight for the men to finish their business.

Continue reading here: Hope is around the corner