Juniper Dramatic Monologue

Juniper -

Day 1:

One word is all it takes, and just like that, my freedom is gone. A simple, small word, that sounds enormous on the auctioneer’s lips. It resonates through the Stadium and a thousand eyes land on me.

Sold.

The crowd of rowdy men cheer and the auction winner pumps one fist in the air. The men nearest him raise their cups and clap him on the shoulder in congratulations. I want to scream, but instead I wilt and whimper in my frothy, pink ball gown. A camera pans in closely. I allow liberal amounts of fear to show on my face. Pictures of me flash by on the massive screens above the raised stage where I sit on a white satin stool. I barely recognize myself. I look sweet, innocent, vulnerable, but most of all, terrified.

I’ve never been so afraid. Mami told me that women were rare but I’ve never truly known what that meant until now. I’ve never seen so many men in one place. Their eyes drink me in. Bile creeps up my throat but I choke back my disgust and cry perfect, delicate tears that barely smear my make-up. The real me tucked away beneath this puff of silk wants to burn this place to the ground.

“A new auction record!” an announcer’s voice rings out, amplified through the Stadium. “Twenty-six thousand gold pieces to Yuri Wolfe!” The drunken crowd erupts in a maelstrom of cheers and applause. Men clank their cups and slosh beer onto the auditorium seats. Spotlights dance through the air in erratic patterns, like confused insects. Rays of colored light sparkle down like rainbows from the stained glass dome of the Stadium.

My buyer sits like a prince in his private box above the crowd. Waiter women rush around to serve him and his guests. He’s thickly muscled and enormous, even for a man. Twice the weight of my twin brother Ransom and at least full head taller. He waves graciously to the crowd and runs his thick, bejeweled fingers through his long, stylishly-cut, white-blonde hair. His eyes rake over me. Fury burns in my throat but I choke it down to the pit of my stomach. Instead, I peek up at him through my long lashes and blush prettily under his

He shuffles over and presses a thin lace handkerchief into my palm. “You’re the luckiest woman in Manna. Yuri is barely twenty years old and already he’s rich and successful. He comes from a very prestigious family. You’ll be positively covered in jewels. More gowns than you can imagine.” His voice is higher than you would expect from a man of his girth, and each word squeezes out, labored, like milk from an utter. It takes everything in me not to spit out a scathing reply. Jewels and gowns. Power and prestige. Does he really think that matters when my freedom’s on the line?

I could likely overpower him in a few moments, but in a room with no windows, my chances of escape are slim and I’d blow my delicate act too soon. Yuri would be much more cautious taking me from Stadium if he heard I tried to escape. Too soon. Mami always says, “Don’t give up the best moment for a good moment.”

The door swings open and Yuri stalks into the receiving room. He’s a mammoth of a man and his shoulders are nearly as broad as the door frame. The moment I see him I shrink in my chair and weep into the handkerchief. Yuri tries to smile kindly at me but his eyes narrow and it gives him away. Good, I think. He’s cruel. That means I won’t have to feel bad when he’s