I hear screams of fear, terror, despair. Screams that seem to rip ears right off, yet all those who hear pretend their ear canals are not now stained with blood. Then I hear screams of pain, ripping open the lungs with her legs as if that would make the lightning bolts shooting up her thighs and pelvis and back alleviate. Then I hear moaning, groaning. The pain was great, but now comes the realization of what is happening to her. These moans are moans of shame, or inexpressible things like dignity being stripped away, like womanhood and childhood together being stolen. These are moans of deep shattering of soul and spirit. And finally I hear her crying, weeping, the weeping of this has happened to her, of this is life right now, of everything hurts, but the rivers of blood flowing out inside are far greater in volume than the blood flowing from between her legs now. The crying of, "It's over but I feel just as sick as when it first began." At the end I hear the door slam and I begin to cry, hunched over my knees, quietly and fearfully, for I know I am next.
The above is a story I wrote from the perspective of a girl caught in trafficking who can hear her friend being raped from the next room, all the while waiting for her rapist to come in to her. I believe God gave me this story as revelation to feel the kind of terror and despair every girl caught in trafficking feels every day. I have only few words, just a cry of prayer out to God to save her, to save them. Join me in crying out to God.
Isaiah 37:20 "Now therefore, oh LORD our God, save us from his hand that all the kingdoms of the earth may know that you are the LORD, You alone."
