Forbidden Part one

Chapter 1

She sat on the edge of the flowered bed spread, her hand resting on her small tummy; she smiled as she thought she felt a slight movement emanating from within. She wondered when she would begin to show, when would people realise she was expecting, when would she know what gender it was, it was all so strange and exciting yet somewhat frightening.

            She hadn’t told him as yet and wondered what his reaction would be, would he be happy? He had no children yet and he did say he wanted a son. She hoped it would be a boy, that would please him very much, but it would be nice if it was a girl too, a perfect replica of her, a tiny mini her that she could mold and dress up and make happy, wouldn’t that be sweet. What if it were twins? A boy and a girl, she laughed at herself, her body could not possibly carry twins she was too slim, it would be too strenuous, but what if he was not pleased what if it was too soon for them to be in this position, what if he didn’t want children from her, what if for him it was just sexual pleasure.  Her hands dropped into her lap and she begun to twist them, what if he didn’t like when her breast became enlarged and engorged with milk and her weight expanded, somehow she thought he had been attracted to her and had stayed because of her figure, she had a great personality but she knew that was not what had won him over. Oh dear how could she tell him, how would she find the strength and courage to do so, everything depended solely on his reaction.  His reaction would determine whether this was a blessing or a curse.

             She lay down sideways on the bed, looked at the green curtains swaying from the breeze coming from her balcony and reminisced about the first time they had met. She had seen the advertisement in the newspaper asking for a personal assistant. It was not the job

she really wanted but she had graduated college a year before with a psychology degree and saw no jobs available for what she was qualified to do. She had sent in her resume and was called in for an interview, knowing how downtrodden the economy was and expecting loads of persons like herself to apply for the job she had dressed in her neatest suit, that fit her brown skinned complexion to a t, had combed her hair in a ponytail and had tried to look as business like and professional as possible.

            She had not been very surprised when she went to the office and found twenty girls who had arrived before her. She was prepared for this but it still made her nervous, they all looked neat and beautiful and she surmised were probably at the same educational level as she was or even above.

        

    When her name was called she entered into the office and saw him sitting there in a navy blue cotton shirt and a green tie, at the time she had wondered if he had a child and the child had dressed him that morning. He had beckoned to her and she had sat down, he looked at her and said “miss Amanda Brown I only have one question to ask you, it has been a long morning and I am sure you do realise how many persons want this job, you can tell by the number of persons, you left out there waiting to come in. now miss Brown,  see you graduated from the university of the west Indies and you have a psychology degree, so do many others here, I just interviewed a lawyer, so here is the big question, why should I hire you?” she had looked at his curly hair, the picture on his desk of he and his wife, the many papers and books scattered in his office and had tried to come up with an intelligent response, she finally looked into his brown eyes and said  “ Mr Sinclair, I know I am supposed to give you and overly intelligent response that is supposed to impress you into believing I am much better than everyone else here and that I am quite enthused to be doing this interview. The truth is I am not going to pretend with you, I left university with high hopes of practicing what I had studied. I want to study people to help fix them and their problems, I did not wish to be an assistant, In fact I was hoping I would be in the position you are today, hiring an assistant to help me to manage my heavy workload. the state of the economy we are in however does not allow this, employment is scarce thus whatever is there we have to rush to get it because we need to eat and have bills to pay, this may not be my ideal job but whatever I do I try to do it to the best of my ability and I
promise you that if you hire me I will be the best and most efficient personal assistant you have ever come across.”  She took a deep breath and waited, she expected him to frown at her honesty and tell her thanks for coming in and they would contact her. She had heard this so much in the past weeks she had almost given up hope of being employed, he looked at her, the surprise reflected in his eyes and he smiled, “ Ms Brown, honestly this is what I have been looking for; honesty I am very happy you decided to tell me  what is in your mind, you have saved me a morning of tiresome interviews and for that I thank you, you are hired, please be here at work on Monday morning at eight thirty am. I will send you an email of what I wish to be done when you get here and other details .He shook her hand and grinned, she couldn’t believe her luck, she was so overjoyed she could have kissed him, instead she graciously said thank you and gracefully walked out, in the parking lot she danced and would have screamed with joy too if there hadn’t been people standing around looking at her.

Chapter 2

            She fit in perfectly at work, it was a top marketing firm in new Kingston and Mr. Sinclair was one of the top five marketing managers. She became friends with some of the assistants and they would sometimes eat lunches and gossip together during the days. Mr Sinclair found her to be professional and totally efficient and was soon unable to find a staple without first asking her. His office had gone from papers littered everywhere and books strewn around to everything being in alphabetical order, his office became the neatest on the third floor. 

            Amanda found Mr Sinclair to be a very handsome man; he was thirty four years old, six feet, four inches, of light skinned glory. He had short curly hair, brown eyes and even white teeth, he was not muscular but neither was he skinny, he was middle weight and because they had become friends she often joked to him that he would soon have a pouch coming if he didn’t stop eating the pizzas and burgers without working out. One day he rushed into the office late without shaving and it almost took her breath away, he looked so rugged and handsome, like someone from a Calvin Klein commercial, she however knew better than to show him the effect he had on her. She liked to keep business away from pleasure and figured mixing both would seriously complicate things, secondly he was married and for her that was a big no, his wife was a snob who when she visited the office, turned up her nose at Amanda and ordered her around, having her fetching coffee and salads as if she was the one who had hired her. Amanda disliked her immensely and often times contemplated dropping a little spittle in the coffee or pouring some milk in knowing she was lactose intolerant. She didn’t however and it hurt her to the bone each time Mrs Sinclair said or did something to belittle her especially in front of her husband. 

            It happened unexpectedly, Paul had landed a big account, he was ecstatic and was walking around the office grinning like a Cheshire cat, because she had stayed over nights to help him with the planning and researching he invited Amanda out to celebrate.  “It’s not a major celebration he said, let’s just go to Devon house and have some ice cream just to thank you for helping me so much” “ok” she had replied “we can have one ice-cream but no more, your figure will not like you for it, if you have more than one, nobody wants a man with a cute face and a beer belly if he isn’t a millionaire” he had laughed and she had blushed.  They went to Devon house and had ice cream, they laughed and talked like old friends, afterwards he asked if she wasn’t hungry, on replying yes he took her to a roadside restaurant where they had jerk chicken and beers, with the alcohol in her system she looked at him and he looked more handsome that he did before, she felt a lounging for a man. She had not had intimacy in months and looking at him she felt it stirring within her loins. He touched her hand to ask if she was ready to go home and she pulled it away hastily as if she had been slapped, his touch had caused butterflies to flutter their wings in her tummy. He looked at her oddly but he said nothing, he held her by her elbow and led her to the car thinking she had probably had too much to drink.

Chapter 3

She was fumbling to put on her seat belt in the car when he leaned over grabbed her and began to kiss her hungrily, she wanted to resist but could not find the will to, she sighed against him, opened her mouth and let his tongue, roam around inside of her mouth. He tasted of jerk chicken, red stripe beer and tic tacs, she grabbed his hair and let her fingers roam around in his curls; it was something she had always wanted to do but didn’t think would happen. She moaned into his mouth and he clung to her even more, driving his tongue deeper into her throat, kissing her as if his life depended on it.

 “from the first day I saw you I have wanted to do this” he mumbled, “you tease me so much every day, I can’t help but to want you” she pulled away from him, she was very surprised, she didn’t know he had felt like that, he had given no indication. He looked at her then blurted “I am so sorry if I crossed a line, I am so sorry but the way u looked at me tonight with all that lust and longing I thought you felt the same, I thought you wanted me as much as I wanted you” he looked rejected and  hurt , “ I do want you” she tried to

reassure him , “ I do want you but I can’t have you, not the way I want to, you are married for Christ sake, how can we be together if you are, I am not a person who does casual sex, I am not a one night stand and if you ask me to be that way it means you don’t really want me, you only want my body”

“no I am not asking you for just sex, I really want you, I want all of you, you are so innocent yet so full of life so caring and intelligent, I wish I had met you before, my marriage is so unhappy. I have a snob for a wife, she doesn’t love me Amanda, she doesn’t love me one bit, she shuns me, and she prefers to hang out with her society friends than to spend time with me.  I want a divorce but she will not give it to me, she prefers to see me suffer

knowing how much I despise coming home. You know what she wants more than anything? A child, I have tried to give her that, but it seems the devil takes pleasure in taunting me, I have given her three babies and they have all resulted in miscarriages , the last time she carried to full term but the baby was born dead, it was a boy, I saw him, I held him, he was so tiny and so frail, he had my hair, I shook him so hard, I wanted him to be alive , I wanted my little boy to be alive, but he wasn’t breathing, he wasn’t crying, he had died within her womb.” He stopped talking and she noticed the tears flowing down his face, his head dropped into his hands and he wept, she leaned over towards him and rested his head upon her breast. He sniffled and sat up “I am so sorry, I don’t know what came over me, I just felt so comfortable talking to you about this, I have never told anyone of how I felt before , I am glad it’s you.”

“I am glad, it’s me too, I am happy to be your confidante and that you are comfortable with me “

“Will you be my girlfriend” he asked innocently “will you make me happy and allow me to make you happy? I will never do anything to hurt you, I will protect you, I will cherish you and I will love you” she opened her mouth to answer him, when he put his index finger on her lips, “don’t think baby” he said “just feel” she nodded.

To be continued.......

written and copyrighted  by Aneisha A. Smith December 12, 2015

                

                                        

Cindy's story (chronicles of a sex slave) part 1

Cindy’s story

 

I lied to you before, I lied because the first time I spoke to you there were people around and I couldn’t be completely honest. I lied about my age, I previously said I am fifteen years old but in reality I am sixteen years of age, I have been here for one year and the man who sold me told them I was fourteen. He did this in order to gain more money, for the younger you are and the less used is the more money they will pay for you and the better treatment you will get.

 I will not tell you my real name at least I cannot do that now but I wonder if I did, would it make a difference to you? Would the name seem familiar to your ears? Would it trigger some memory? Every night in Jamaica on television Jamaica during the news they have a segment where they show all the missing children, how many people do you think remember the names of the missing girls or even their faces? If they passed them on the streets do you think they would recognise them as someone they saw missing? I doubt it, when you watch the television and see the missing kids or even see them on Facebook you say “oh my, it’s so sad that this child is missing I wonder what happened or I bet she is a runaway, gone with some man or gone to do badness”, some people will share the pictures that maybe a relative uploaded but then you forget them after, you move on with your lives.  The lives of a few missing girls do not affect you, it is not your kin, therefore you do not feel the pain and heartache that the missing leaves behind. You do not feel so you do not care and because you do not care, young girls like me will always go missing, we will always be kidnapped and sold and this sex slave trade will always continue.


It is not nice being poor, when you are poor people don’t respect you, they treat you horribly and try to take advantage of you at every turn, being poor is a very expensive thing. The family I was born into were very poor, my parents were both farmers, they planted carrots and escallion and sold it at the Mandeville market. I have three brothers and two sisters and my mother was the only one who took care of us all, for my father is a drunkard who squandered the little money they earned in the various rum bars in our community. I lived in mile gully in Manchester, it was a place where we still used pit toilets and bathed outside, some people didn’t even have electricity and used lamps or candles to see at nights.  It was at times very depressing, especially coupled with the fact that we barely had anything to eat, some nights when my father had beaten my mother and taken all of her money we had to boil carrots, eat and immediately go to sleep as my mother often told us that angels fed us when we slept.

 My mother sold in the Mandeville market on weekends, my younger siblings oftentimes went with her but, I didn’t because I was too ashamed to admit my mother was a vendor, I didn’t want anyone to see me there. One Saturday after going to the Library, I had spent all my money so I had to go to where my mother sold to get bus fare to go home and that is when I met her, the person who would change my life. She had long flowing hair past her shoulders, chocolate toned skin; she was about five feet four inches and had the most beautiful smile, she was buying produce from my mother, when she saw me she introduced herself as Ariel and told my mother “ she had a lovely daughter” I liked her instantly.

 Ariel and I became good friends from that day, we exchanged numbers and we spoke often, when she saw I had a cheap Motorola phone she told me she had an extra phone at home which turned out to be an IPhone 5. she often bought things from my mother and my mother said she admired her immensely for she always carried herself well and often gave my mother large tips for she knew the plight of my family and how much we suffered. She told my mother she lived by herself and she was a teacher at a primary school. She convinced her to let me come over and stay on some weekends as most times she was alone, not having many friends, having just moved to Manchester from Kingston a year ago. I was excited to visit her house, it was a nice apartment with modern amenities, I ate well, watched cable television, used internet and sometimes she took me to the movies with her. I was glad to have found a friend like her and pretty soon I was being allowed to visit her every weekend.

 After a couple weekends she told me she had some secrets she wished to divulge that she would appreciate if I kept from my mother that is if I wanted to keep coming to her house.  She told me she had lied she was not a teacher; she didn’t own the apartment but her rich boyfriend did and he gave her all the money that she had spending. He gave her a car and whatever she wanted and all she did was to ensure she always looked pretty and have sex with him. I didn’t know what to make of this admission but I decided it wasn’t my business if it didn’t affect our weekend excursions. She said things would change slightly in that, on some weekends she would be visiting his Kingston apartment more often. She said if I wanted to I could accompany her and stay and she would have me back home on Monday as per usual but I shouldn’t let my mother know. I being an adventurous person and only being in Kingston twice before decided that I would go with her as it could be something I could boast to my friends at school about and it would certainly make me popular.


 We began to go to Kingston quite often, Ariel’s boyfriend, Ted Salem, was indeed quite rich, we went to the most uptown all-inclusive parties and we always went to the vip section. He bought the most expensive liquors and was all about flossing and exhibiting his wealth, he was really nice to me and didn’t seem to mind that I was underage and was now Ariel’s tag along buddy. I liked the hype and the excitement, I drank the alcohol that was passed on to me, wore the skimpy clothes I was given and danced and partied like a college student. No one questioned my youthfulness or even asked what I was doing there, I was with people who possessed money and in the parties in Kingston money is what talked, with money you could do anything.

 Something that seemed weird to me but didn’t seem to bother Ariel was that Ted was not monogamous. We partied with other pretty girls and often times I saw Ted kissing and dancing on them and bringing them home while we went to one of his apartments. She didn’t act jealous or even questioned him about it but chatted with and partied with the girls, she seemed content with being one of his many women as long as she got all the nice things that came with being with him.

I didn’t let it bother me however, for if she didn’t care then why should I? Being her friend had lots of benefits and I revelled in the, at school I was no longer the girl who had to hide in the library at lunch time because I had no money to buy lunch; sometimes Ariel gave me money or sometimes she met me at the school gate with kfc or burger king lunches, I used to thank God the day I met her and she decided to make me her friend.

When I partied in Kingston which was pretty much every weekend after a while, I drank a whole lot, I often times became tipsy but I was never so drunk that I was not aware of what was going on. Ariel told me I could get drunk if I wanted to , that she would protect me and nothing bad would happen but I didn’t want to I didn’t want the feeling of not being in control, thus whenever I felt myself getting lightheaded I would begin  drinking water. Ariel said it was an offence to her because I was basically saying I didn’t trust her, I thought that was rather silly; but I told her one day I would drink so much that she would have to throw me over her shoulder to get me out of the party, hearing that she smiled.

 One day she and I were in the apartment in Kingston when Ted came over, I decided to go into one of the rooms to give them privacy but he said I could stay and drink and we could watch a movie. He told me that when he was younger he used to be a bartender so he was great at mixing drinks, thus he would make all of our drinks for the night. I began drinking and pretty soon I became lightheaded, I shook my head as I couldn’t understand how one drink could make me feel like I was ready to pass out. I tried to put down my glass and my hands were shaking, I felt like I was in a daze, “I feel as if I have been drugged” I tried to say but no words came from my mouth, I soon fell on the floor. The next morning I woke with such a massive pounding headache that I had to squint to see, I felt awful and something felt wrong with my body, I crawled to the bathroom to pee and soon discovered what it was. There was blood coming from my vagina, I couldn’t understand because my period had been finished the week before, I sat and pondered and then it finally dawned on me. I had been raped and sodomized; my vagina and my bottom were painful and sore. I came out of the bathroom and saw Ariel sitting in the living room “you’re finally up” she smiled, “did you rape me last night? Did you push something inside my butt? What happened?” I began to cry.  “Ted wanted you, how could I say no? If I tell him no, I lose all this, I lose everything, you lose everything, no more good food, no more parties, no more
anything, you go back to poverty. However if you stick with me and continue to do what he likes, you can become like me, you can become one of his girls, you get to shop , you get trips, if you are good, you get a car to drive and all you have to do is do whatever he likes, sometimes, it’s not that bad, cause trust me he doesn’t last all that long”

“But I was a virgin Ariel; I had never had sex before”

“So what? At some point in your life, you would have to do it, so why not do it with a very rich man, I cannot understand why you are acting like this, I thought you were a woman, I thought you were mature, guess I was wrong” how could I explain to her that I was saving myself for someone special, I had wanted to give my virginity to Justin Bieber or Chris Brown, someone I could remember with fondness, not some old man who was full of women.

“Why is my butt sore? Why does my butt hurt?” she rolled her eyes

“Ted likes both, he thought it would be cool to take both virginities at once, you should be glad you were drugged, it hurts like hell if you are sober”

“I want to go home, please bring me home” I felt like I wanted to die. She reared up and stood before me, “what will you do? Or what do you think you can do? Do you know how the world works? You are poor, your family is poor, do you think you will finish school and be able to afford a car or a house? You think that is how it goes? Wake up and smell the roses honey, I was once dirt poor but look at me now. I live uptown in one of the most expensive apartments; I drive one of the most expensive cars and wear brand name clothing, all because of the man I choose. You want to know the truth from the day I met you I knew Ted would want you, he likes them young and poor, easier to manipulate, my reward for finding you was I got a new shoe and I got the latest Audi he bought to drive for a month.

Don’t do anything now, think about this, don’t you want to be like me ?if you talk no one will believe you, Ted is a powerful man, he can make you and he can break you and he always get what he wants, so think about this.” I don’t know what I had gotten myself into.

To be continued……

Written and copyrighted by: Aneisha A. Smith

Chronicles of a sex slave (part two) cassandra's story

I am seventeen years of age I am a prostitute and I don’t know how many men I have had sex with, it sounds awful doesn’t it? But here it is the norm. Nobody counts anymore, what does it matter? Nobody cares, so you just live and try to survive each day. People die here, young girls who were probably reported missing but will never be found. Sometimes this life becomes too much and they commit suicide, some die from being too heavily drugged and some of them just plain give up on life, it becomes too hard to bear so they waste away to nothingness. I do not know when they die what happens to them I don’t know where they are buried or even if they have a proper funeral. I do know that there is some mother out there grieving, hoping and praying that their child will come home but she never will.

 I have learnt so much being here, I have matured, there are times I wish I could change the past but I can’t so I have to live with it and try to make the best of the situation. I say I have learnt from my mistakes but that cannot help me now, learning from it doesn’t do anything, I am still a sex slave, in a strange country, far away from my family and friends.  There is no escaping this, I have no passport, I have nowhere to go, and I do not know who to go to for help. I have seen girls who have tried to run away and the police brought them back; the police, they are supposed to protect us yet they aid in our demise, they all know about it and they do nothing because it is a rich man’s trade, everyone makes money from it.

 After our last conversation, I finally found the courage to call my mother, I was so scared, and two years have passed since I last heard her voice or seen her or touched her. I love my mother, even though she was often times sick and couldn’t take good care of me or give me the things I wanted, I still love her. Maybe if we hadn’t been so poor and had better daddies things would have turned out better but I don’t blame her for anything that happened to me, I blame myself. I probably rehearsed a million times what I would say to her, I practised in front of the mirror, I said the words night after night before I went to bed and it was with a beating heart that I finally dialled the number. I don’t know for sure what I expected, maybe screams that I was still alive and not dead in some gutter or maybe tears but what I got was an answer from an aunt whom I had never met . An aunt who told me Miss Jocelyn Stewart had been dead for a year now; she went to bed one night and didn’t wake up. One of my brothers had become a thief and was in Jail, destined to spend some years in Prison and the other she had taken to Clarendon with her to give him a better life.  When she told me this, I felt it was my fault, maybe my mother had become so heartbroken that she had given up on ever seeing me again and just died, maybe she even blamed herself for what had happened to me.

 I have nothing to live for now, I wanted to be a Veterinarian, I had wanted to make my mother proud of me, I had wanted to take her out of poverty, move her from the ghetto to uptown, Cherry Gardens. None of that is possible I am nothing but a whore, a prostitute who doesn’t even get to spend the money she worked so hard for. My life doesn’t matter anymore; nothing good can come out of it and so I am not ashamed of my story anymore, my name is not Cassandra, my name is Andrea  Alethia Douglas, I was born on January 21, 1999 and  soon I will die. Tell the world who I was, let women, teenagers and little girls know my story, let it be a warning to them, tell them all the graphic details, omit nothing. Tell them I could have been someone great, my mother could be alive, I could have made a difference in this world if I had not been  so naïve and gullible.  Do not try to talk me out of what I am about to do, you haven’t the slightest idea what it is like, living without hope, it is in the deepest, darkest hole that I live, death is like the light at the end of the tunnel, I will embrace it with open arms. There is someone else here who I think you should meet so before I pass I will give her the phone so you can speak to her, her name is Cindy, my name is Andrea, remember me.

 Hello my name is Cindy, I am fifteen years of age and I bet I have been all over your television screen, I am the girl everyone is looking for, the girl who disappeared out of thin air and no one can comprehend what happened. Cindy is not my real name but for reasons which you will soon hear you will understand that you cannot publish my real name. If you something so foolish, you will draw unwanted attention to yourself, people in high places will seek you out and you will either end up dead or in this place that I am at now. I am Cindy and at present I am one of the most dangerous girls in the world.

To be continued…….

Written and copyrighted by: Aneisha A. Smith. March 21, 2016

 

Chronicles of a sex slave (cassandra's story)

So you wanna know how it all began huh, how I ended up here in this messed up situation? My story isn’t really any different from anyone else; here there are people with worst stories. Could my situation have been avoided? Yes it could, if I had not been gullible and if I had made better decisions, but I guess it doesn’t matter anymore, nothing matters anymore.

  It all began as most things begin; with a conversation. I was sitting in the Mountain View pharmacy waiting on my mother’s hypertension prescriptions to be filled when he sat beside me. We were the only two people sitting and waiting and as he looked at me he said, “Hello there, “well aren’t you a little cutie”, “thank you sir” I replied, he was wearing his soldier’s uniform and he smiled at me through his moustache. He was dark complexioned and broad shouldered, he had a thick short neck which balanced his large bald head, he looked to be about forty five years old. He saw me scrutinising him and he winked, “how old are you? He asked, I could tell he wanted me, most men did I was five foot five inches, one hundred and twenty five pounds, I carried most of the weight in my hips, bust and butt, they liked my relaxed shoulder length hair, brown skin, pink lips and large innocent eyes. “I am fifteen” I replied  

“Oh you look a bit older but anyway do you have a phone?” I took out my flashlight nokia that my friends called a “banger” and I showed it to him. “If you stick with me, I will soon upgrade you to the latest galaxy” he said, I smiled and wrote down my number. I had wanted a Samsung galaxy phone for a long time but didn’t know how I would get it, my mother was old poor and sick with three children and our fathers were non-existent, she could barely find money to send us to school much less to get me an expensive phone. I doubt she had ever held that much money in her hands all at once. My high school boyfriend had saved his lunch money and bought me the nokia so we could utilize digicel’s free texting, I had been delighted and appreciative but what I really wanted was an expensive phone so I could be “hot and hype” like some of the girls at my school.

 He called and he texted me and we began a relationship, I went to Saint Hughes high school which was five minutes from up park camp, the soldier's headquarters where he worked. It was easy for us to see each other, he wooed me with two hundred dollar phone credits, burger king lunches and kfc dinners. I had never had a man spend so much on me and pretty soon we had intercourse, I was not a virgin, he was nice to me so I didn’t take long to give in to him, he took care of me, I thought he would be my sugar daddy, my saviour. I lived on cartridge road in Mountain View, in what people called the “ghetto” , I was poor, I had nothing, I thought  my only way out was to find a man who could take care of me , I felt I was lucky to had found one so soon.

 He soon fulfilled his promise of getting me a phone, he brought me a Samsung S4 and I was on top of the world. He said I had to get rid of my boyfriend who went to saint Georges because he hated to share me. I didn’t wish to do it but it was a choice between being with the boy I thought I loved or with the man who gave me what I wanted. It wasn’t really a difficult decision, with my boyfriend Roger I would starve he could only afford mother’s patties in the evenings but with my man Paul I ate good food and never ran out of phone credit.
  I didn’t know where he lived, I never went to his home, he told me he had a wife and two children but his wife was very boring and nagging so he was glad to have me to satisfy and keep him happy. Whenever we had sex, we would go to a motel, I oftentimes arrived home late from school but my mother never questioned me for I brought in grocery and dinner and I stopped bothering her for lunch money. I fancied myself in love with him, who wouldn’t love a man who gave you whatever your heart desired and pleased you in unimaginable ways, we were so in love that we stopped using condoms and the inevitable happened.

At age fifteen I became pregnant and Paul panicked, even though it was not my fault he blamed me, we didn’t want a baby and we didn’t know what to do, I was already two months and experiencing morning sickness when we found out. He ignored me for a week, leaving me to suffer all by myself, I didn’t know what to do or where to turn but after the week he came back and i was overjoyed. He said he had a brilliant plan, he would make me abort the baby but not in Jamaica, he would send me to a clinic in the Bahamas and when I was all better I would come back and we could resume our relationship. I was ecstatic if he could do all that for me, it meant he really loved me, I had never flown on a plane in my life, he helped me to get all my documents together and in no time I was ready to go.

 I told my mother I was leaving for a few weeks, she never asked where I was going or when I would be back, she just took the money Paul gave me to give her and told me goodbye.

When I arrived in the Bahamas I was met by a well-dressed lady named Miss Alice who hugged me and told me she was glad I could make it and she would take good care of me forshe and Paul were good friends. She brought me to her house and it was the largest, most beautiful house I had ever been in, it had six bedrooms and each bedroom had a bathroom, she had a housekeeper, a chef and a gardener and she told me not to speak to anyone of them. She told me whatever I wanted i should ask her and I would receive it.

 A week after she took me to a small cottage where I met a skinny black man in a white lab coat who told me he was going to get rid of the baby for me. I was a bit apprehensive but he drugged me and I felt nothing, when I woke up my body felt empty and my vagina a bit sore.

Miss Alice told me I would rest for the next two weeks then I would go back to Jamaica, I had spoken to Paul almost every day and he said he was quite excited for me to come back so we could resume our relationship. For the next two weeks Miss Alice treated me like I was her daughter, we went to dinner often, she brought me to do a little shopping and even brought me to her hairdresser to relax my hair, I felt as if I didn’t want to go back, if Paul was where I was it would have been perfect. The only strange thing that occurred during that time was that Miss Alice went everywhere I went, I was not allowed to go out by myself and when I tried to ask the housekeeper about something one day, she told me not to speak to her as she didn’t wish to lose her job.

 I was driven to the airport in Miss Alice car but she didn’t accompany me, she sent me with two men whom she claimed were her business partners and who would take care of me. I remember nothing about the drive other than ten minutes after we left the house I felt a prick into my neck, when I woke up, I was here in this place that I have been for the past two years.
I am in Mexico, and for the past two years I have been a prostitute, I am a slave I do whatever I am told and I do not go anywhere without an escort, I am not able to do what I please. I have sex with at least five men a day, I do not get paid, the money goes to my mistress, she buys everything i need. At first it was so hard having a strange man have intercourse with you, for the first couple of weeks I fought and screamed, but they starved me and drugged me and I soon learned to behave, now it feels like nothing, I obey, I be whoever they want me to be sometimes I even pretend to like it. It isn’t all that bad, I am in a house, I am given good food, nice clothes, I wear makeup and jewellery, and it is rich men that visit me. I am not on the street running down cars, begging them to buy me. Here I am exotic and they pay dearly to use me, the men love me, that is how I am able to speak to you, I convinced one of them to sneak me in a phone, I want to call my mother but I am scared, what will I tell her? I don’t know how to begin such a conversation and I am ashamed of what i have become so I will wait until I have enough courage.

I tried calling Paul once but as soon as he heard my voice he told me I was never to contact him again, he planned this, he lied to me, I meant nothing to him. I must go now, I hear someone coming , do not call me, I will call you, if they knew I had a phone, I think they would kill me, write my story, let the world know, but change my name please,i do not want to be recognized, I will tell you more next time.

To be contined.......

Written and copywrighted by Aneisha A smith, February 25, 2015