Haling Cove

Haling Cove was a mostly abandoned fishing town with a population of 15. It was discovered in 1987 due to a loophole in the California’s state tax laws, and quickly blossomed into a joyous paradise, inhabited by the rich and famous. As more and more people flocked to Haling Cove, an expansive underground human trafficking ring developed. Ran by the most elites in the city, the banker, politicians and celebrities, the ones with all the power. This ring allowed the town to develop into a bustling metropolis. Free from poverty, depression, and fear. Its inhabitants lived in perfect harmony, with no one wanting for anything. The town was a beacon of hope and optimism, a place where anything was possible. The ocean lapped against the shore, the sand glistened in the sun, and the people of Haling Cove were content. Everything seemed perfect, however, if one looked a little closer, there was something wrong. Haling Cove had a dark secret.

Stephany had been on the trail for months, and it had finally paid off. As she drove up to the large warehouse in the eerie industrial side of the city. She took a deep breath and stepped out of their car, cautiously walking towards the unknown. As she entered the warehouse, her stomach twisted in knots. What she saw was horrific, cages lining the walls, each with dishevelled, terrified kids in them. The living conditions alone made her heart drop as several pleaded with her through the bars with outstretched hands. For months her superiors had been shutting down her intuition, but she had known she was right. Now she had to be careful. There must be some reason why they would have tried to prevent her from finding out?

She looked around slowly, flashing pictures with her camera before putting it back in her bag and slowly walking towards the office at the back. She had photo evidence, now she wanted to find some names, someone responsible for this horrific suffering. Slowly opening the door, she approached the large oak desk in the centre of the room. She searched through the desk, finding many documents with names, locations, and dates. This was just the evidence she needed. She couldn’t understand how so many people had allowed it to happen. How many of those she looked up to and admire had turned a blind eye to such an atrocity. She felt hopeless as she exited the office, making sure that everything was exactly as it had been when she entered. How could she do anything? She had no power in comparison to these people. They could just make her disappear, or worse, she could end up like one of these poor children.

She re-entered the car, holding her head in her hands in despair. Surely the only option now would be to leave and never return. Hope that no one ever found out she was here. Perhaps those who had left the city had found the same things that she had and realised that they were unable to change it? She put the car in drive, and began to head home, staring off into the distance as thousands of questions swirled around in her head. She knew she should leave, that it was the only way she would get out of this because she knew she couldn’t sit on it for the rest of her life. The darkness of night swirled around her car as her headlights cut a weak path through the fog illuminating the front of her house. She entered slowly, breathing a sigh of relief as she relaxed for the first time that day. She began to prepare her things to leave, packing everything precious. Her guitar, clothes, the rainy-day fund she had been saving for years and other essentials she would need to start her new life. She sobbed as she moved through the house, feeling utterly powerless to the situation. An old painting, gifts from friends, souvenirs from travel, she began piling them all by the front door. Then she approached the last room in her house. The faded pink door stared menacingly back at her, unopened for months. Bracing herself and opening the door she stumbled through the doorway. Everything was untouched, just the way she had left it. The flowery pink bedsheets with dozens of stuffed animals piled on top of each other, the little piggy bank on the bedside table. Blinking back tears, she tried to repress the memories as she approached the bed. Was she really going to give up everything she had fought for. She picked up a silver photo frame. Her precious daughter stared back at her. She suddenly remembered why she had to see this through. She needed justice for her daughter. She knew what she had to do. Springing to her feet she headed towards the car with confidence, it was time for change.