I’m not sure when I stepped into this situation, wedged between two rich men in satin sheets. They were beautiful creatures- I wouldn’t call them human. Not with those godly features.

My head was pounding and I couldn’t remember the previous night. I struggled to remember what I did to get in the bed- and in the end, I give up.

This would be the sex part of the deal, I would later learn. Innocent me didn’t know what was headed my way.

I would know the next day, when I was forced into the bedroom again with one of the men. Then later, another man would come. Then four more would come after that.

A week later, I would be sold to a rough handling man that made me bleed over and over again on countless cold nights.

This would be the money part. But I’m guessing you already knew that…

I would be sent around several times, then settled at a rich drug dealer’s home, who had big hands and pills to make his downstairs pop like a prostitute’s lipgloss on a Saturday night.

Power. That’s what this stage would be. He controlled everything I did or said. Soon, I would be forced to swallow balloons of his drugs and deliver them to local malls, where his clients awaited in dark clothes and tatted skin.

I would die a terrible death, staring down the barrel of a shiny new gun on a cold night.

The gun, one of which was stolen from a gunsmith in Downtown Jamestown during a raid, approximately thirty-nine miles from my murder’s condo.

I would be drug into the damp woods and shot once in the thigh and twice in the chest. Under a big oak, would be where I was buried like a wild animal.

-SMP, Samantha Michelle Price.