Growing up, my parents gave me anything I wanted. When I say anything, I mean literately anything. No matter how expensive or useless it was, my parents would get it for me. I didn't know what my parents did for a living, and frankly, I didn't care. I was living every kids dream. Looking back on it, I wish I had cared more. If I did, maybe I wouldn't be in this mess.
I remember playing with my newest toy in the living room, when I heard a sound coming from the basement. I was very confused. I stayed silent, in case I heard the sound again. I was silent for about two minutes before I heard it again. The sound was faint, and muffled, but I was sure I heard something. It sounded like somebody was crying.
I walked to the basement door. I placed my hand on the cold doorknob. My parents had told me not to go in the basement, since there were big, poisonous spiders in there. I was only a little kid when this happened, so I easily believed that. In that moment, I forgot about the spiders that might be lurking. I was sure somebody was crying down there.
I opened the door to the basement. It creaked open loudly. My mother entered the living room when she heard the sound of the door opening. She quickly slammed the door. Then, she picked me up, carrying me away from the basement door. I remember the expression on her face scared me, because it was the only time I had ever seen her look so angry at me.
"Your father and I told you never to go in there! Why did you disobey?" My mother angrily said to me.
"I-I heard a sound and-" I began to say, but my mother interrupted me.
"I don't care! Go to your room, and don't come out until I say you can!"
I went to my room, as I was told to. At that point, I didn't care about what I heard. I assumed it was just my mind messing with me. I pouted on my bed until I fell asleep.
Nothing happened for about a month after that, aside from hearing sounds every now and then coming from the basement. One night, after my parents had tucked me into bed, I heard the unmistakable loud, creaking sound of the basement door. I was confused, since my parents said they didn't ever go into the basement ever. They said they were afraid of the spiders down there as much as I was.
Not too long after the basement door opened, I heard the sound of someone crying. One of my parents hushed them. They didn't make a sound after that, so I was sure one of my parents had covered their mouth. I heard the front door open, and a second later, I heard it close.
My curiosity was killing me. I had to go down in the basement to see what was happening. I went downstairs. I looked out the window to make sure my parents weren't there. The car was gone.
I opened the door to the basement. My heart was beating faster then I knew possible. What would I find in the basement? Even though I knew for sure something was down there, I prayed that by some miracle I would find nothing.
I went into the basement. It was dark down there. I rubbed the wall until I found a light switch. I flipped on the lights. What I found in the basement left me stunned. The walls were perfectly clean and white. There wasn't a single spiderweb in sight. The lights were unbelievably bright. The floor was clean and polished.
The scary part is the cages that I found. There were eight cages. Each one had several kids in it. The cages had plagues on them that showed different prices. I came to the shacking realization that my parents were selling children, and probably had been for years. All my things were payed for by the pain and of children I didn't even know.
The kids yelled at me, crying and begging me to let them out. I stood completely still. One of the kids in a nearby cage was able to barely reach me. He tugged on my shirt.
"Please....Please...Please, l-let me out. I-I don't wanna d-die. Please. I-I wanna go home. I w-want my mom. Please, let me go." The boy was sobbing. He was hard to understand through his tears.
He snapped me out of frozen shock. Every inch in my body wanted me to run. Even the voices in head told me to run. So that's what I did. I ran, barely remembering to slam the door shut behind me.
I ducked under my covers, sobbing. Eventually, I fell asleep.
That was years ago. I am nineteen now. I am moving out of my parents' house, and moving in with a friend. I've never been able to look at my parents the same way since that night. What's worse is that I know they are still doing this. I've heard the creaking door open in the middle night several more times.
I left my parents' house. I sat down in my car. Before I leave, there's a phone call I need to make.
"Hello," I said to the 911 operator on the other side of the call. "I am calling to report several kidnappings, and selling kidnapped kids."