Trafficking Tara

By Ashley Oliver

After their father's mysterious death, Alyssa and Tara's childhood went severely downhill. When 18-year-old Alyssa leaves to go to college, the sisters decide to spend one last night together before Tara must return home to their mother, who's far from nurturing. What seems like a great night turned haywire when Alyssa's sketchy roommate returns home from a party with no sign of Tara.

After gruesome torturing, it is revealed that Tara has been kidnapped and sold into the sex industry. With no help from the police, or their mother, Alyssa, with the use of her suitemate, Eric, decide to take matters into their own hands. In this whirlwind of turning events, Alyssa must decide if she'll become the prey or the predator. With jaw-dropping events in each chapter, it is evident that NOTHING will ever be the same.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ashley Oliver
• Release date: May 15, 2022
• ISBN: 9798985818413

Ashley Oliver

Ashley Oliver was born and raised in Fort Valley, GA. As a young child, her grandmother would read to her every night which developed her love for reading. After receiving a writing award in grade school. Oliver began to take her writing more seriously. She attended the University of West Georgia and Fort Valley State University where she took several creative writing and screenplay courses. Now a mother, Oliver plans to become a full-time author, and inspire minorities to “follow their dreams, regardless of any obstacles that may stand in your way.” With a love for writing paired with a love for thriller/suspense novels and documentaries, “Trafficking Tara” was birthed.

Book preview

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Bumblefuck, Georgia, or should I say Pendalton, Georgia. This will be my home for the next four years. It’s a bittersweet moment, but I’ve been waiting for this for pretty much my whole life. The only thing I want from you and your sister is to go to school, make something of yourselves, and get the hell out of this town . That was one of the last things Daddy said to me before he died. So, here I am, greeted with the fresh smell of pine trees, playful squirrels running past the car in excitement, and the ear-piercing squeals of incoming and returning students. My vivacious aunt drives up to my new home, and I’m welcomed with a huge sign plastered on clay bricks saying, Welcome Pendalton State University C/O 2019. My palms began to sweat simultaneously as my heart was about to combust out of my chest. We arrive in the dorm I’ll be staying in.

University Suites? Doesn’t look so sweet to me, My younger sister, Tara, says as she kicks the back of my seat.

Don’t be a hater. You’re just mad you gotta stay with mama for another year. I hysterically laugh as she rolls her eyes.

Ohhh, I can’t wait to tell Margarette! Aunt Cleo says.

It’s not a shock that Mama isn’t here to send me off to college. She’s never really cared to be a part of anything in my life. Tara and I pretty much raised ourselves. Ever since Dad died, mom has not been the same. She used to be so sweet and carefree, and now she’s —a bitch. She went from telling us we were beautiful every day with kisses and warm hugs to calling me a fat ass and my sister a whore. It’s like we were no longer her little girls but a problem to her. My mother never brought men into the house; however, she would leave for weeks at a time; I assume it’s because of business.

Once on Tara’s thirteenth birthday, Aunt Cleo bought Tara this bright blue dress with matching eyeshadow. Tara had never worn makeup, so she was really excited to wear this eyeshadow. I put the eyeshadow and my favorite Mac lipstick on her; Heroin. She was so beautiful, but even more, she was happy. It was her first birthday after Daddy died, so I hadn’t seen a smile on her face in nearly a year. We went to show Mama right before the birthday party started. We excitedly ran to where Mama was standing; in the mirror curling her hair.

Mama, look, I did Tara’s makeup for her birthday!

The way she spun around was as if she had been possessed by the devil himself. She saw her and slapped her with fury! That was the first time I called mom a bitch.

Tara is younger than me by eleven months. Most people think we’re twins based on how similar we look. Tara’s red, curly hair cascades past her back and my sandy brown strands lay right below my shoulder. She has a killer body and isn’t afraid to show it; the butterfly tattoo that accentuates her left shoulder didn’t make it any better— Oh, you should have seen Mama’s face when she saw it.

Today, she has on a hot pink halter top with a matching tennis skirt, a silver anklet, and some pure white converse; A true black barbie. I, on the other hand, am a much thicker version. My curves are full figured, which is probably why I’m a bit more reserved. Don’t get me wrong; my curves have never been a problem; I just rather get admired for my brains and not my booty. I didn’t realize I’d look like the damn tour guides with these khaki shorts and red and white Pendalton shirt I got from orientation, but fuck it.

Okay girls, let’s get these bags out of the car, Aunt Cleo says while clapping her two hands together.

Tara and I struggle to get the bags up this unusually steep hill leading into my dorm. Meanwhile, Aunt Cleo is watching us with her arms folded across her chest as if we’re wasting her time.

Did you really have to park all the way down here, Cleo? Tara complains.

Yeah, you could at least help us bring something, I say.

No, someone has to watch the car. I’m not just going to leave it unattended—now shoo shoo. She motions.

Tara and I look at each other and roll our eyes. We finally make it into the lobby of the dorm, where tall football players are walking around shirtless, girls are taking selfies, and parents have disapproving faces. Let’s not mention the dropped jaw that Tara has right now. Pure comedy.

They’re staying here too? She asks.

I guess, I said as I rolled my old hot pink suitcase to my room.

I remember when Dad brought this suitcase home. He bought Tara and me identical ones; hers lilac, and mine, hot pink. I fought Tara to give me hers because I hate the color pink, which Tara loved, but since I wanted hers, then she now wanted it even more. Long story short, Tara’s wheel popped off her suitcase a week later; see how the universe works. I know I’ve outgrown it, and Mama constantly nags me about buying another one, but my little pink suitcase is the only thing left I have that Daddy gave me.

What’s the room number again?

24C, I said as I looked down at the paper that was given to me during orientation.

Tara points down the checkered hall. I think that’s it.

We appear at a blue door that has 24C with my name and roommate’s name under it.

Taylor Hampton. My sister reads.

I pull out the key and unlock the door. Immediately entering, there’s a small kitchenette with a door on one side and another door on the other side of it, separated by a white refrigerator. I walk to the first door, insert my key, and walk in. We go into the room and see two twin beds lined on each side of the wall, along with two desks, one window, and one bathroom. The other side is completely empty. I stop and stare at the bathroom for a second until my sister speaks aloud.

One bathroom—yikes.

I roll my eyes as I began to unpack my clothes and set up my room decorations. As I take out one item from my bag, my sister is sneakily putting items back into my bag. After wondering why I’m not making progress with my unpacking, I finally turn around.

Can you stop? I say, grabbing my decorations from her grasp.

Fine. She says as she walks into the bathroom and slams the door.

Tara then begins to cry.

I go to the bathroom and try to open the door, but it’s locked.

"Tara, what the hell is wrong with you?

I just don’t understand why you had to come all the way out here? Why do you have to leave? You’re supposed to be my big sister, Alyssa. How are you supposed to protect me from her if you’re not here? She sobs through the door.

Tara, you tripping! I can be ten thousand miles from you, and that won’t be enough to keep me away. I’ll always be here and you can always come and visit. I sit down on the floor against the bathroom door.

It won’t be the same, Alyssa. She says.

I sigh, Look, it’s a Welcome Back Blast tonight; why don’t you come?

"What’s a Welcome Back Blast?"

It’s a party girl! I laugh.

I hear the door unlock. Tara slowly opens the bathroom door as she still sits on the toilet, fully dressed.

You said party? She sniffs and wipes tears off her face.

I knew that’ll get you out of there. I hand her a flyer of the Welcome Back Blast that was on my desk in the room.

See, that’s if Cleo lets you go.

Tara looks at the flyer and runs over to my bag. She begins to go through it, messing up my neatly folded clothes. I quickly run over to her and snatch my lace bra from her hand.

What do you think you’re doing, Tara? I ask in anger.

Girl, I gotta find something to wear.

What’s wrong with what you have on?

Uhh uhh, I can’t wear this. I’ve already been seen. She whines.

Girl bye, you don’t have a choice.

We walk out of the door, where we’re immediately greeted by this tall brown man with long locks cascading his face. He has on a black wife beater and gray basketball shorts. I can’t help but notice the tattoos that line both of his arms and that big, thick Adam’s apple. He is FINE! He’s at the microwave; he appears to be preparing a hot as the aroma of pepperoni lingers in the kitchenette. My sister and I are both stuck in our own minds until he snaps us back into reality, literally.

Hey, I’m Eric, your suite-mate. So... which one of you is Alyssa, and which one is Taylor? He asks, looking between the two of us.

My sister, Tara, jumps in front of me, pushing me into the wall.

Actual— She begins to say before I cut her off.

I regain my balance and stand back where I was.

"Actually, I’m Alyssa, and this is my little sister, Tara. She was just leaving," I answer.

"Oh, y’all aren’t going to the Welcome Back Blast tonight?" He asked.

Before I could even say anything, Tara interjected and said, Yes!

Alright, I’ll see y’all then. He says before he goes into his suite and closes the door.

Tara and I look at each other before we simultaneously say, Damn.

Tara and I have never had the same taste. I go for the book bright, nerdy guy, while Tara likes roughriders, aka hood niggas. I mean, there’s nothing wrong with hood niggas. Every woman wants a man they feel will protect them, but a nerd can protect you. With dating a nerd, I don’t have to worry about getting shot up or worrying if he’s coming home at night. It’s one thing having to worry about other women, but having to worry about getting my door kicked in by the police is a whole other story. This guy here—is something different.

As we walk back towards the car, we see Cleo embarrassingly flirting with a man. She has one hand on her hip and the other on the man’s shoulder, casually lifting her hand off the car to twirl her overprocessed, chestnut hair.

We finally make it to her and this man. A beautiful girl is standing near him, and she looks pissed. She’s a pretty girl, but you couldn’t tell with this scowl on her face and her arms crossed tightly. She had on a green dress that would burst with one sneeze and a short blond pixie cut. She was thick for a white girl; the definition of a coke bottle! There’s no way this girl is only a freshman. The guy, on the other hand, looks nothing like her. He was in his mid-30s at best. His hairline was receding, and he had a patchy beard with very few gray strands. He has on a short sleeve red and black Burberry shirt with some black pants and those leather grandaddy shoes. These people have money!

Dad, can you come on it’s hot!

Damn, Taylor, I’m coming!

Once he says Taylor, I turn to the girl and ask, Are you Taylor Hampton?

She gave me a disgusted look as if I was the scum on the bottom of her gold Louis Vuitton sandals.

Yeah, who the hell are you? She snarls with a thick southern accent.

Although Tara and I aren’t twins, we have this weird telepathy going on because as soon as she said that, I felt the heat emerging from Tara’s body. I quickly nudge her before she says anything.

I’m Alyssa, your roommate.

I reach my hand out to shake hers, and her entire mood changes. She waves for her dad to come over to us. Whatever he and Aunt Cleo were talking about got her standing against the car with this stupid ass grin on her face. It’s kind of funny and gross at the same time.

Dad, this is my roommate, Alyssa, and... sorry, I didn’t get your name. She says as she looks at Tara.

It’s Tara. She says with a smile clearly forced. Taylor’s dad shakes both of our hands.

"It’s so great to meet y’all. Will both of you be attending the party tonight?

Tara and I look at each other, and I’m sure we’re thinking the same thing. How the hell does this man know about the Welcome Back Blast? Why the hell does he care? Before we could ask anything, Cleo walks over to us.

What party? She asks.

It’s not really a party; it’s a Welcome Back Blast for the students and—I was wondering if I could go? Tara asked.

See, if Mama was here, the answer to this question would go one out of two ways. Either mother will be her normal self and say hell no, or she’ll say yes under a certain condition. It’s just another form of manipulation and total control. People always wonder why Tara never calls mom Mother or Mama. It’s because Mama doesn’t act like a mother should. Luckily for Tara, Mother isn’t here.

You’re not even a student. Says Cleo.

I look at Tara with pity as she folds her arms in an attempt to find a response.

Okay, I’m a prospect, though. This event will determine if I fit in with this atmosphere, you know?

One thing about Tara is that she’s not the college type. I know it was daddy’s wishes, but Tara decided at an early age that she was traveling the world after high school.

College is a scam. Is her saying. Why would you spend thousands of money on a degree when you can spend thousands traveling the world and experiencing life?

She isn’t wrong.

Well, how are you gonna get home? Asks Cleo.

I can call an Uber or Lyft I guess. Tara suggests.

Are you out of your mind? You don’t have any money for that. I exclaim.

Tara rolls her eyes and crosses her arms. Taylor and her dad give each other a look as if they’re communicating telepathically. As Cleo, Tara, and I look at each other in confusion, Taylor speaks out.

My dad can take her! Taylor interjects.

Tara and I glanced at each other. I’m sure we’re thinking the same thing.

No, it’s fine. I can just come another time, it’s no big deal. Says Tara.

Taylor steps up and caresses Tara’s wrist.

No, tell her Dad.

Yeah, uhh—I own a transportation service.

Jeff points over to a silver Rolls-Royce causing Tara, Aunt Cleo, and I to all shake our heads up and down in approvement.

I do this for a living. We’ll actually be helping each other out. I can bring you home and give you a great discounted rate.

Oh, you don’t have to do all that, Jeff. She’ll be alright. Aunt Cleo says.

Oh, I have nothing better to do with my time; let her go. I’ll make sure she arrives home safely, Says Jeff, Taylor’s dad.

Well, if you insist, I guess she can go. Thank him, Tara.

Thanks, Mr. Jeff. Says Tara.

Alright, Let’s go unpack this stuff to see what we’re wearing tonight. Says Taylor eagerly.

I grab the suitcase from Mr. Jeff, and we all run into the building like