The Life Of The World

Decent Essays
The summer that I was six years old was an untroubled one. Sunny Indiana days I spent playing outside and firefly catching filled the nights. Occasional weekends were spent at a lake house situated at the top of a steep hill. Surrounding the house stood aged, stately trees, one of which held a rope swing, positioned to be pushed out over the hill. When I swung out, with the ground growing further away, I almost felt like I was flying. Life is similar to that swing. There is no danger until the rope breaks. After falling twenty feet, I landed on my wrist and was rushed to the hospital to make sure there weren’t internal injuries. The only damage done to my body was an almost broken wrist, but a fear of heights remains with me to this day. This is a pale, broken reflection of what people who have been trafficked experience when people and the systems they trusted exploit them, however, it is the most simplistic way I can relate of learning the world isn’t safe. In 2012 I was in my third year of university, and second year of pursuing a degree in philanthropic studies. My plans for the future didn’t have much direction, all I knew was that I wanted to aid others. The Super Bowl was being held in Indianapolis and while I didn’t follow sports, it meant the city, businesses, and people would spare no expense to impress visitors. Unfortunately, with that number of tourists comes an influx of demands for sex. It was at an awareness raising event that I listened for the first time
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