So, for some context, I’m a 15m at the time of this story. I live in St. Louis County in Rock Hill. I have a permit, and I usually run some errands for my parents. My parents usually don’t like me putting out this sort of information, but I literally have nothing to lose right now.
Anyway, weather in St. Louis has been crazy lately. It’s never been this low in my life. I was driving in my Nissan Altima (I bought it myself) slowly down the hill before I got to my house. I parked the car backwards, collected all the groceries, and got inside the house. My parents were gone for now. They were busy (my mom was at the hospital being treated for COVID, and my dad was at work). I put the groceries down on the kitchen floor. My parents wouldn’t be coming back for hours, so I might as well chill and do it later.
I hopped on Discord, then got on the usual social server I always go on. At this point in time, I was interested in jets. The server was about jet conversations and such. We were all friends in the server. Usually there were no arguments. Either way, I was chatting for a while until one of my “friends” invited me to a group chat. Usually I don’t join those, but I was bored. Why not?
Some guy was rambling on how good a job was and why people needed to join it. I instantly noticed how everyone in the group chat (four other than me) were around my age. This was instantly a red flag. I typed in the group chat “aint no way y’all got me in a scam group” and left immediately. I thought it was done from then, but my friend nagged me to join back. He told me how the guy was paying 30 bucks per hour and how great the job was for people like me. Once again, red flag, so I just told my friend to stop texting me and cut off communications with him for the day.
Any reasonable person would THINK that’s where the story ends, but it barely begins there. A couple days later, I’m hopping on Discord in the morning since I got pinged a lot. I hate being pinged over three times in a row, so I instantly checked out where this was. Before anyone could say a word, I noticed it was the same guy. This time, he was LEAKING MY INFORMATION ON THE CHAT.
My heart dropped as he was listing my address, the city, the state. He was dropping everything on there. I was just shocked. I wanted to get off the chat, but he warned me before I could do anything. “If you get off this chat, I’ll go over there and take you myself. It’s either you drive or wake up.” I was confused at first, then I realized this was a kidnapping threat. Panicked, I just complied. I asked the address and where to go. He finished off the whole thing. I quickly looked around for my phone to call the police, but he made sure that wouldn’t happen. “If you call anyone about this, just know that I’m taking more than you out with me.” I just dropped in my chair, defeated. With tears rolling down my eyes, I simply grabbed a coat and gloves, then told my dad I’d be heading out to a friend’s house for now. He was chill with most things I did, so I was easily let go.
I drove to the location, seeing this whole “job”. He said the job would involve hauling trash and loading them in vans. 30 bucks per hour. A trashman job like this? What’s the catch? I was scared to ask as I was forced to one of the vans. They snatched my keys, phone, and made me start working. Once again, the catch wasn’t obvious at first until they presented the “Trash”.
The trash was literal human organs in garbage bags. I could tell as I saw an arm outline sticking out. I nearly puked but continued to throw them insides. I felt fatigued as I continued to do this. Who even does this, I thought to myself. Why get a bunch of kids to do the work for you?
Noticing how much a small fry I was, one of the bigger guys approached me. “How about you work on exporting them,” he asked me. I was confused at first, but he was eager to elaborate. “I’ll be in the van with you. We’ll just put on the GPS and drive them to where we need to go.”
I was so done once he said this. The guy not only wanted me to haul dead organs into a GMC Savana, but he wanted me to drive those organs to God knows where? I reluctantly agreed, knowing this might give me a chance. We both entered the vehicle, hearing the rear doors shut. I noticed he had a gun in his hand. I’m not much of a gun expert, but that definitely was something like a Berretta. He was going to kill me if I went south on the plan!
I simply started the vehicle up, ready to go. As I looked over, I noticed there was a steering wheel lock next to him. I pulled the lock up, checking it out. “Drop the fucking lock,” he said to me. “This isn’t play time. We gotta leave or–” I slammed the lock against his head. Violently bashing it over and over, a pool of blood oozed out from his skull as I continued to slam it. I snatched his sidearm and left the vehicle. Seeing another trafficker, I aimed the pistol and fired. The round didn’t connect, but I was running by autopilot. I shot three more into the man, taking him out. Now I needed a vehicle.
I ran far away from this discreet location. We were in East St. Louis. Downtown. A ghetto place to be. The gunshots were the norm’ for the people here. I looked around as a car now stopped on the side of the row. I quickly ran to the car as the person now stepped out. It was some random young dude. Clearly larger than me, but I’m the one with the weapon. It’s a matter of time until those guys find me. The guy was around 6’0, so I knew I was fucked if I messed it up.
I went up to him, holding onto him as if I fell over. He got a grip around my back almost like hugging me. “Whoa there,” the guy said. “You alright.”
“Aye, man, I need the car,” I mumbled to him.
“What?”
“I need that ride, man. I’m being chased by some kidnappers,” I spoke up, trying not to catch attention. Noticing the gun in my hand, the guy quickly handed me the FOB to his Honda Accord. “I’m real sorry,” I said back as I got into his vehicle. I now drove off from St. Louis, finding a path to the highway and getting out.
As I continued to move, I finally got back home. My dad, who was wondering where I was, was happy to see me. “Dude, where have you been,” he asked me. “I know you were out at a friend’s house, but I didn’t know it was a sleepover!”
I almost broke down crying right there, but I told him my situation. We ended up getting the police and FBI (obviously for the human trafficking thing), then moved out. We were in Witness Protection for some reason, but I didn’t even care. As long as I got the hell away from there. Years later from now, I’m just grateful I didn’t end up like one of those bodies in the bag.