Chapters 1 – 14 of Blood Borne Connections

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Chapters 1 – 14 of Blood Borne Connections have been published on this blog

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Two Plants

Ebooks from GLL Publishing available at Amazon, Smashwords etc – Books also available via http://www.gllpublishing.com

Despite all odds: A Dream Fulfilled Part 1

Despite all odds: A Dream Fulfilled Part 2

Truths, Lies And Untold Secrets

Blood Borne Connections

U Murder U (Suicide)

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Blood Borne Connections – Chapter 13

 

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Chapter 13

 

‘Tatiana’

 

On the bus that took us from Czechoslovakia we were shown our passports, we all had new names. According to my passport my name was now Tatiana Nikols. I didn’t question this, none of us did. Neither did we question how the passports were obtained so quickly, we were so happy to be chosen, so happy to be going to a new life that you could have called us Humpty Dumpty and we wouldn’t have bat an eye. ‘Bat an eye’ – what does that really mean? How does one bat one’s eye? This is not something that we readily say back home. I heard Tommy, one of the eight men who guards us tell Hanna this. Hanna is one of the girls who traveled from the orphanage with me; she is the same age as me but looks much older and is more physically developed than me. Tommy told her that he wouldn’t bat an eye if she died. He had raped her so many times and she had tried to kill herself so many times and on the last unsuccessful attempt he said this to her as she lay on the ground covered in blood that slowly seeped out of a new cut on her wrist. He became hysterical when he found her that day, the other men tried to calm him down but he wouldn’t listen to them. He tried to beat her but they wouldn’t let him so he spat on her. Two days later he was begging her for sex and when she said ‘no’ he raped her. How can you spit on someone one minute then want to sleep with her the next? You spit on something when you think it is dirty and beneath you. If this is what you think, is it not logical that you would not want to touch that thing?

 

America is a capitalist country. Growing up in Czechoslovakia you are told that capitalism is bad and corrupt. You are told that too many people have too many thoughts in a capitalist country and nothing substantial in their thinking. Their thoughts lead to confusion and a division between the rich and the poor. The rich have too much money and too many cares and the poor have too little money and care about nothing in their attempt to get rich. This is why the poor readily kill and steal in their attempt to be rich and then they get rich and they have too much money and too many cares, so much so that they wish they were poor again. It’s hilarious! This is a word I picked up from Hanna. She says that life is hilarious and if she weren’t always crying in pain she would be laughing at her good fortune of being in America – the cause of her pain! Hilarious!

When we first arrived in America we were moved from one house to another, several times and we immediately saw the difference between this country and ours as we were driven in a van with darkened windows. The skyscrapers – the fast food restaurants – the big cars – the big houses – the homeless people who lived out of supermarket carts – the overdressed shops – the underdressed women. It was very different from Czechoslovakia. The music was so different. We would spend hours watching music videos on the television, our favorites were Whitney Houston ‘Saving All My Love’, Debarge ‘Rhythm Of The Night’, Foreigner ‘I Want To Know What Love Is’, Kool &The Gang ‘Cherish’, Ashford & Simpson ‘Solid’, Madonna ‘Crazy For You’, New Edition ‘Mr. Telephone Man’, Billy Ocean ‘Suddenly’, Sade ‘Smooth Operator’, Jermaine Jackson ‘Do What You Do’ and Tina Turner ‘Private Dancer’. I loved Michael Jackson’s ‘Thriller’ and would watch it over and over again when it was played on the television. We were fifteen and sixteen year old girls exposed to music we had never heard before and we would dance and dance. We didn’t know the words but the videos spoke their own language and we would sing along as if we did know the words. Although short lived they were fun times that united us and gave us something to talk about and write about. You see we were encouraged to write letters to our siblings and friends back in the orphanage. I wrote long letters to Tereza, Leona and Eduard. I told them my name was now Tatiana as this was more Americanized. I also told them about the many things we had seen, the food, the television shows and the music. I tried to describe the things I saw as best as I could in detail so that they would feel as though they were here with me, and seeing what I saw. We were given a Post Office Box address to give them so that they could write to us. I remember waiting for letters from home but never receiving any. After a few weeks of being moved from one house to another the blonde American woman came to the house we were in and told us that we were all going to a final location. We were all excited about this and packed our few belongings.

The say evil has a humorous side and just before it strikes it can’t help itself; it lets you know it is coming. Moments away from our final location we were told the sad news of Mrs. Svobodová’s death and told that we should work hard and do our best to make her proud of us in America!

Our new home was a large three-story house with many darkened windows. There were no other houses next to it on either side, it stood alone, almost sinisterly so. From the outside it looked like a house that could accommodate many families. Once we got inside the house the doors were locked and bolted and the men who guarded us immediately changed in the way they behaved towards us. You see when we first got to America we were told that these men were protecting us from the corrupt American men who exploited innocent girls like us. We were told to regard them as bodyguards and that they didn’t understand our language and as such we should avoid interacting with them, but if we had to speak to them we were to speak only in English. Hanna noted that when we spoke in our language some of the men would stop talking. She suspected that some of them could understand and speak our language and didn’t understand why they pretended they couldn’t. In our first weeks in America they hardly spoke to us and they never touched us; they acted like we were their little sisters. Once the door of the new house closed behind us they grabbed hold of us and pushed us down steep stairs into a large room in the basement of the house. We screamed, we cried, we tried to make sense of the sudden change in our treatment but the men told us to shut up and do as they said. They took our belongings from us and locked us in the room, which was dark and smelled of urine and vomit. I remember feeling sick and trying to hold my breath but everywhere I turned the smell followed and made my insides churn. We were kept in the room for two days with no food and a dripping tap as our only source of water.

What did we do during this time? We sat on the cold floor and waited. You have to understand; none of us knew what was going on, our upbringing in Czechoslovakia had been very sheltered in the orphanage. Communism had sheltered us from the wicked ways of so called modern civilization. Of course we cried and cried, some of us banged on the door and begged to be released, begged for food and begged for mercy. For two days we were ignored. It was during this period that I learned something; I learned that Leona had been the first girl selected by the American woman and she had turned the woman down. Despite the American woman begging her and offering her money, Leona had refused to go with her because she said that the woman did not look sincere. She had told the American woman and Mrs. Mertle that she had prayed to God for direction and God had shown her in a dream that the American woman was not to be trusted. I cried when Hanna told me this. I cried when I thought about what I had said to Leona, how I had accused her of being jealous because I had been chosen and she hadn’t and I cried when I thought about the fact that I might never again see her, my sister or Eduard, we would never again be the four musketeers. I would die in this dark cold basement from starvation. Looking back that would have been a luxury compared to what lay ahead.

On the third day, the men who had guarded us during our first weeks took us out of the room one by one. I don’t know what scared me the most, the fear of seeing a girl taken and knowing that it would soon be my turn or the thought of what they were going to do to the girl they had taken and what they would do to me. One of the girls had said during our two days in the basement that they were going to kill us and sell our organs – again that would have been a luxury.

I remember two men grabbing my arms and pulling me out of the room, I remember being blinded by the light as I was dragged up the stairs. Then things start to get blurry. I was dragged into a room and told to take my clothes off when I refused I was slapped several times. I heard girls screaming from different areas of the house and my mind froze with a fear that I have never felt before. Hands ripped and pulled off my clothes and threw them onto a pile already on the floor. One of the men held a hand over his nose while another one said I smelled like shit and needed to wash. I was pulled naked out of the room and thrown into a room with a shower. I was told that I had two minutes to wash and that I should make sure I washed in-between my legs and my mouth properly. Amid the instructions I heard screaming, I heard shouting and I heard the quiet sound of someone weeping as if her heart were being shattered. It took some moments before I realized that the quiet weeping was coming from me. I could taste blood in my mouth from where I had bitten myself when I was repeatedly slapped. I tried to pick up the soap from the floor but my hands were shaking so much. I had never been naked in front of a man and I felt ashamed at this. I felt ashamed and scared. The men were looking at my body and grinning at each other. They told me to hurry up or they would ‘do me’ right there. I didn’t know what they meant but from the evil glint in their eyes I knew that it wasn’t good. I remember picking up the soap and standing under the shower, the water was freezing and I washed quickly thinking that if I did this I would be given some clean clothes and some decency. I brushed my teeth and someone threw a towel at me. I used the towel to cover myself and the men laughed at me and called me a stupid bitch. All this time I knew I was so hungry and cold but the fear in my heart seemed to paralyze my brain. Someone pulled the towel off me and threw it on the floor. I was dragged out of the room naked and taken to a room filled with about ten men. Music played in the background; it drowned out the noise of the screaming girls.

“Have you slept with a man before?” A man I didn’t recognize asked me in my language.

Hearing my language from this man made me cry. I spoke to him in my language, “Please help me, I only came to America to-”

He slapped me, “Answer my question bitch, have you slept with a man before?”

“No,” I replied stunned.

“If you are lying I will know and I will kill you and I will send one of my men in Czechoslovakia to go to the orphanage and kill your little sister, Tereza.”

I panicked at the mention of my sister’s name, “It is true!”

“I know everything about you so tell me the truth!”

“It is the truth, I have never slept with a man,” I begged.

He turned to the men in the room, “Okay gentlemen we have a virgin here; two hundred bucks for two hours!” He told them in English. I saw what looked like money being waved in the air and then I was handed over to an old man with very little hair and a fat gut. He told the man who had sold me for two hours that he would add ten bucks not to use a rubber. The man called him Emilio Russo and told him to make it twenty bucks. He nodded gave him the money then smiled at me and walked out of the room. Two men dragged me out and we followed the old man up the stairs. The screaming seemed to intensify with each step I took. I heard girls screaming in my language, in Polish, in English – girls like me, begging for their lives. Terrified, I was taken into a room with a bed, a sink and darkened windows. The two men dragged me towards the bed and threw me down. They laughed as I struggled to get up and mocked me as I tried to run. They grabbed me and held me down on the bed. I could hear my heart pounding as fear stole my breath and paralyzed me. The fat bald man called Emilio Russo, took off his clothes slowly and smiled at me as he did so. I begged and I cried, I told them that I was only fifteen but the men holding me down told me to shut up. Naked, Mr. Russo climbed on top of me and I screamed. I screamed at the pain of his thrusts. I cried and begged him to stop but he wouldn’t stop, the men wouldn’t let me go. I screamed until my throat ceased and shock took control. When Mr. Russo had finished the men who had held me down took turns in raping me. They did things to me that I cannot bear to think about and as you are reading my thoughts you will not read the things they did. When they left the room I was battered and bleeding. My face was swollen and my lips cut  from where they had punched me several times and . . . I was angry . . . Before I came here I had plans! Plans that I would one day meet a young man and flirt a little, fall in love, have a first kiss, hold hands, go for walks, get engaged, get married, give myself to him on our wedding night, have children and live happily ever after. I had plans! I had dreams!

These animals had taken my plans and destroyed them, contaminated them. Who would want me now? My innocence had been taken away by a man old enough to be my grandfather, a man who had lived his life to old age and had now destroyed my young life. I was angry . . .

I had to clean myself up. The pain was unbearable as I held onto the bed and walked slowly to the sink to get some water to wash myself. I stood by the sink with a wet towel and tried to wipe away their dirt and their smells. When I had finished cleaning myself I looked around the room for some clothes to wear; there was nothing. I heard the door open and frightened I backed away. The man who had sold me walked into the room; he had some clothes, some food and some tablets in a transparent bag in his hands. He placed them on the floor and talked to me in my language. He told me he had paid a lot of money to get passports for us in the Czechoslovakian black market and spent many Koruna (the currency in my country) for us to be taken across Europe to Yugoslavia and then brought to America. He said that he needed to make sure we repaid him all the money he had spent and that it was only fair that we did so. He asked me if I was hungry, if I wanted to wear some clean clothes and take some drugs to stop the pain. I nodded. He told me that I must listen to him and obey him. He said I was chosen like the other girls because I had family that they could get to in Czechoslovakia if I disobeyed him. He told me he had someone in the orphanage watching my little sister Tereza and he could easily arrange for Tereza to be brought here and go through exactly what I had just been through and that afterwards he would kill her in front of me. My heart froze when he said this because I believed him. He had mentioned my sister’s name three times today and I knew he could do what he said – when someone mentions someone’s name three times in relation to a bad thing it is seen as a bad omen in my country. He undid his belt and told me to get on my knees in front of him. When I didn’t move he walked over to me and punched me in my stomach then dragged me by my hair around the room. I cried and begged him to stop but he told me to shut up, he told me that when he spoke to me I had to obey him before the words were out of his mouth. He told me his name was Vitto and he owned my ass. Then he pushed me down on the floor in front of him and unzipped his trousers.

 

 

Ebooks from GLL Publishing available at Amazon, Smashwords etc – Books also available via http://www.gllpublishing.com

Despite all odds: A Dream Fulfilled Part 1

Despite all odds: A Dream Fulfilled Part 2

Truths, Lies And Untold Secrets

Blood Borne Connections

U Murder U (Suicide)

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https://www.facebook.com/gllpublishings.co.uk?ref=hl

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Blood Borne Connections – Chapter 12

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Chapter 12

‘My transformation – Taťána to Tatiana’

 

When I was fifteen, I used to help the teachers in the orphanage teach English and History to the children. I knew that I wanted to be a teacher and I hoped to take some examinations and train as a teacher. My little sister, Tereza, was eight years old and had long ago forgotten our parents. I tried to remind her with photographs but she would shake her head and call me her mother, “Matka Tata”, I tried to get her to call me sister but she would shake her head and say, “No Sestra Tata, Matka Tata” – she reminded me of my mother – strong minded.

The orphanage was a good and safe place managed by Mrs. Izabela Svobodová. She was like a guardian angel – she really cared about us children and never hid her feelings. We used to hear horror stories of different orphanages in Europe where the children were treated very badly. Some had terrible buildings where children would literally freeze in winter and some had buildings with no windows so that when it rained, inside would get wet. We heard stories of girls driven out of orphanages when they were sixteen and ending up as prostitutes. We heard stories of overcrowded orphanages where the children were not cared for properly, not educated and were bullied or beaten regularly by the workers. We didn’t have any of that at our orphanage. We were treated well, given respect and love and told to treat other people respectfully and with love (to love our neighbor as our self).

Mrs. Svobodová would not stand for bullying or ill treatment of the children by any worker and for this I loved her as I would a favorite aunt if I had one. The day she was suddenly taken ill and had to be taken by ambulance to a hospital in Prague was a sad day for all of us. We had a new woman come in to manage the orphanage called Mrs. Mertle. She told us that she was from Poland and had lived in Czechoslovakia for over twenty years. She said she had so many new ideas for the orphanage which she would immediately implement because she didn’t think that Mrs. Svobodová would survive her illness. The first thing I noticed about her was what I can only describe as bleak ‘hollowness’. Maybe I am wiser now and I am looking back in hindsight and this makes me critical of her actions. The truth is if I am critical of her actions then what should I say about my own?

It was on a Wednesday that the lady from America came to the orphanage. She came in a big car that most of us had never seen before and she wore a big hat that none of us had ever seen before. Her blonde hair shone in the sun and her clothes looked like she had stepped off the page of one of the contraband American fashion magazines which Mr. Kovář, our head gardener and security man kept in his shed. Tereza said – ‘she looked shiny and new and not real’. Wise words from a little girl!

“She wants to take five girls who can speak and understand English very well back to America and give them a chance of a better life, a life free from communism.”

Even now those words still haunt me. They still manage to pierce my soul, to unpick a healing wound in my heart and lay it bare for all types of infections to invade – to shatter me! I wish that I had never heard those words spoken by Mrs. Mertle that day. I wish that the American lady had never come to the orphanage. With all my heart I wish that Mrs. Svobodová had never taken ill and had to leave the orphanage. But what good is wishing? I could wish until I was blue in the face and nothing would have changed.

Back then, I thought I was one of the chosen, one of the selected few. All five of us went around looking down on the other children – we acted like we were better than them. There were over ten girls between fifteen and sixteen who could speak and understand English but I had been chosen because in my head I was special. My mother had talked about leaving Czechoslovakia and going to the West and I was going to live her dream. The American lady told us that we would either be adopted by a good American family or be able to live in an American orphanage. She said that she had a lot of contacts in America; she knew people in modeling agencies and wealthy people who were looking for European nannies or au pairs who would be happy with us because we were all pretty and once we were eighteen we could get jobs. We would be able to help our brothers or sisters by sending them money for a ticket so they would one day join us in America. At the time I didn’t think it strange that the five of us selected all had a brother or a sister in the orphanage. In fact Mrs. Mertle said that this was an added bonus as we were securing a bright future for our siblings. The thought of leaving Tereza broke my heart but the thought of having a better life in America and one day sending for her to come and live with me consoled me. I told myself that I was not only doing this for Tereza, I was doing this for mama and papa as well.

Within days our paperwork was organized and we were set to go. I asked my best friend, Leona, to look after Tereza for me and promised to write to her every week. Leona begged me not to leave the orphanage, she said that she had had a dream that the communist regime would end before 1990. She also said that she had a bad dream about the American woman but I refused to listen to her. Leona was always having dreams; we sometimes teased her and called her ‘Leona Josephina the dreamer’. We often told her she was like Joseph in the Bible who was always dreaming and annoying his brothers and like Joseph she had been sent to annoy us. She would retaliate by telling us that Joseph’s dreams came true and that God speaks to people through dreams. She was so serious when she told me that I should stay in Czechoslovakia and wait for a few more years. She insisted that things would get better, we would be older and wiser and then we could all go to America or England or Canada, anywhere we wanted to go. She reminded me that we were the four musketeers, me, her, Tereza and Eduard, Leona’s little brother. We had made a vow that we would always stay together and I was now breaking that vow. She cried and begged me for two days but I wouldn’t listen. In the end to get some peace and quiet I told her she was just jealous that she hadn’t been chosen. You should have seen her face; it was like I had hit her with a baseball bat. I have been hit with a baseball bat in America several times so I know what it feels like. On the day I left Czechoslovakia I begged Leona to forgive me. I knew she would take care of Tereza but I didn’t want to leave in the middle of a fight with her. She is a good Christian and she said that she had already forgiven me. We hugged and cried and hugged some more. I kissed and hugged Tereza and hugged Eduard (he tried to be a brave little boy but I saw the tears in his eyes). My own tears blinded me as I climbed into the bus that would take us across Europe to our ultimate destination – America.

 

Ebooks from GLL Publishing available at Amazon, Smashwords etc – Books also available via http://www.gllpublishing.com

Despite all odds: A Dream Fulfilled Part 1

Despite all odds: A Dream Fulfilled Part 2

Truths, Lies And Untold Secrets

Blood Borne Connections

U Murder U (Suicide)

http://www.gllpublishing.com

https://www.facebook.com/gllpublishings.co.uk?ref=hl

https://www.facebook.com/Blood-Borne-Connections-book-121559344708084/?ref=hl 

 

 

Blood Borne Connections – Chapter 11

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Chapter 11

 

‘Tat’ána’

I was born Tat’ána Nováková in Czechoslovakia in March 1970. My parents, Jakub and Kateřina were both schoolteachers in a small town not too far from Prague. My father, he taught History and my mother, she taught English. In the 1970s Czechoslovakia was under a communist regime and had been for many years. There was a lot of unrest as many people were against the communist regime. I remember my father telling me of a time when things were not so severe and most people were happy. I was about six years old at the time. When I asked him why all the people were not happy, he said that ‘you cannot please all the people all of the time’. That is the closest translation of what he said in my language into English. As a historian, my father had studied the creation of Czechoslovakia in 1918 and taught about men like Tomáš Garrigue Masaryk who became the first President of Czechoslovakia in November of 1918. He often told me how the Czechs and the Slovaks united to form the country despite the cultural, historical and religious differences they had. I used to love listening to my father talk about my country and how proud he was to be a Czechoslovakian. I think my mother shared his love for the country but not for the government of the country and was very verbal about this. My father often joked many times that she was strong minded in her ways. During that period, many people had been arrested for trying to oppose the communist government and my mother often said that she thought we should leave for the West and live in a Democratic country, where the people were free and had a voice.

What are my earliest memories of my home? At three or four years of age, I remember the green grass of summer and the fresh fruits. I remember running in a field near our home and thinking that I could run to the end of the world because the field was so big and no matter how fast or how long I ran, I never got to the end of it. (Looking back, I must have been running in circles). I don’t recall many children in the area I grew up in. I had no cousins that I visited; there were no grandparents who visited us. My parents seemed to live a life where they were the only person in each other’s life and I was part of both of their lives. At three or four I didn’t notice how isolated we were because my parents were sufficient for me. Sufficient is a new word I learned not long ago; it means enough. I think it is because of my mother’s vocation that I have grown fond of learning new English words and using them in the right fashion. Sometimes I have problems because I use words that people here in America do not fully understand. One of the men who guards us calls me ‘Little Miss Big Words’. I will come to the men who guard us later. So back to my early life—when I was seven years old my mother had a baby girl. She was born on the fifteenth of October and called Tereza, which is her name day on the Czechoslovakian calendar. I don’t know if you are familiar with how children are named in my country. Let me explain how it works. There are three hundred and sixty five days in a year and each day has a name attached to it. If you have a child on a particular day you have to call it the name attached to the day. A special permission form is required from the authorities to give a child a name that is not on the Czechoslovakian calendar. Let me think for a few moments . . . yes that is correct, I have explained it how it was explained to me. My sister Tereza was like a little fat ‘moving’ doll that ate and ate then slept and I loved her. I couldn’t wait for her to grow up so that we could play. For some reason I thought that she would grow up and I would remain the same age then we would both be seven and would play outside in the green field together. Why did I think this? It is strange looking back that I would think this—they say innocence is a buffer that protects you from harm. Life, while I waited for Tereza to grow up, was the same. My parents loved us both equally and they showed their love openly. I spent time with my father learning about the history of my country while my mother took care of Tereza. My father loved our country and he loved to teach me the history of our country and other countries of the world. He was not always in work because of the conditions of the country and because of a lot of mistrust among people. A number of small groups tried to oppose the communist government but they were quickly squashed. I remember how happy my parents were when the first organized opposition called Charter 77 appeared in January 1977. Even though it wasn’t a political party as such it had many people sign their names to it and it posed a threat as it offered independent thinking, which opposed the communist rule. Many of the people who had signed their names to it were arrested, interrogated and dismissed from work. The government closed schools and churches that they thought were teaching anything which contradicted what they dictated. Communism says that everyone is equal and should live in a classless society. It dictates that there are no wealthy people and no poor people but communal ownership among all people. It not only says this, it stops anything that contradicts what it says from contaminating the minds of the people it controls. Television, radio and newspapers are either banned or controlled. Is it good? I’m only fifteen and haven’t lived long enough to make a decision on that. What I can say is what I saw: communism takes away the individuality of a person. It strips them of their voice and it strips them of their thoughts; it tells them what thoughts to think and how to think those thoughts. In a way it can leave a person without responsibility for their actions and free to do things that are wrong and free not to do the things that are right. To some people it is good and to others it is not good. As my father said ‘you cannot please all the people all of the time.’

My parents were killed in a car accident when I was ten years old and my sister was three years old. We had no family to take us in so we were placed in an orphanage

 

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Beautiful Things

 

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Blood Borne Connections – Chapter 10

Measure of a Friend

 

Chapter 10

 

“You said that he treated you badly for years, what happened to make you finally take a stand against him?”

Dorothy had not told anyone about the phone call she had received two days ago. She had not been able to trust anyone, but she knew without a shadow of a doubt that she could trust Julius. “I was getting ready for work two days ago when the phone rang. I was running late and sort of knew that it was someone calling for Nigel so I wasn’t going to answer it but it kept on ringing and something made me pick the receiver up. A young girl was on the other end and she asked if I was Nigel’s wife. I said I was and she told me her name was Tatiana and she was fifteen years old. She had met Nigel at a ‘Singles’ bar, told him she was nineteen and flirted with him. He said that he was going to take her to Disneyland. He told her that I was going to borrow some money from the bank and give it to him and he would use the money to spoil her. She said that when she asked him why I would borrow money from the bank and give it to him to spend on her he told her it was because I was stupid and desperate to keep hold of him. He said the only thing I was useful for was giving him money.” She paused as she thought about the number of times she had given him money or bought him something or done something he had asked even though she had disliked it.

“Dorothy?” Julius encouraged.

She cleared her throat, “Tatiana said that she wasn’t calling me to tell me about the loan and if that was the only thing she wouldn’t have bothered. She said that she was calling because of something Nigel had told her when he was drunk. Something that the man in charge of her had heard and planned to use her as bait to get as much money as possible from him. He told her that after he got his hands on the loan he was going to cash in a life insurance policy he had taken out on me. I didn’t want to believe her, I kept telling her to stop lying to me. Over and over again I kept begging her to stop lying to me. Then she told me something that tore me up – it ripped my heart out,” she paused again.

“What did she tell you?”

“She told me it was Nigel who had hit me on my head with a hammer. She told me he had practiced how he would kill me and part of his plan was to make it look like I had been accident prone for months.”

“What?” He stared at her, shocked and confused.

“I . . . umm, I,” ashamed, she looked away.

“Dorothy, you don’t have to tell me if it makes you feel uncomfortable-”

“No, I do want to tell you. God knows I need to tell someone,” she took a deep breath. “One night I woke up and saw blood on my pillow, my head was throbbing and I panicked. I remember the look of shock and fear on Nigel’s face when I started screaming. He took me to the hospital and told the doctor that I must have been sleep walking again, fallen and hit my head. He said that I had been falling a lot recently. I knew that was a lie but I was confused and my head hurt; I felt dizzy and sick. The doctor examined me for bruises consistent with falls but couldn’t find any. I couldn’t understand what had happened. This stranger on the phone explained that my husband had used a hammer and hit me twice on my head then calmly hid the hammer and went back to sleep. She told me where he had hidden the hammer. I found it exactly where she said it would be, covered in my blood. She said I needed to leave him before he killed me. She said there had been a glint in his eyes when he spoke to her and she knew he was going to kill me. She said that she couldn’t live with herself if she didn’t tell me because she didn’t want my death on her conscience. That was what pushed me to take a stand. Her words were like a compass directing me to what I had to do in order to survive. I searched and searched until I found the life insurance policy he had taken out.” She took a deep breath, held it for a few moments, and then released it. “It was all true; everything Tatiana said was all true.”

“Tatiana? Is she from Europe?”

“Czechoslovakia. She came here for a better life. She was living in an orphanage in Czechoslovakia with her little sister, Tereza; their parents had died in a car accident and they had no one to take care of them. One day a woman from America visited her orphanage. She told the manager that she wanted to take some of the girls to new homes in America and she had contacts with many families in America who were looking to adopt children. Tatiana and four other girls who could speak and understand English came over to America. She was full of hope and wanted so badly to be adopted and then help get her little sister adopted too. It wasn’t until after the first few weeks of their arrival that she suspected that something wasn’t right. They were moved around from one house to another house and watched by a group of men.”

Julius’ heart began to beat rapidly as he held his breath. He knew what was coming and he would give anything not to have to listen to the words.

“Within weeks Tatiana had been repeatedly raped, beaten and made to sleep with at least twenty different men. She said she lost count at twenty and thinks that it could have been more. Two of the girls she came with disappeared one night, she has not seen them again and thinks they may be dead. One day she saw a uniformed police officer in a squad car outside the house she was held in and ran to him for help. She didn’t realize that he was a customer. The police officer took her back inside and told the man in charge of the house to control his whores. She was beaten so badly that night with a baseball bat that she thought she was going to die. Now she does as she is told and trusts no one, especially the police. With everything that has happened to her at fifteen she still had the courage to phone me and warn me about my husband. She had one phone call which she could have used to save her life and she chose to use it to save my life! If that’s not Divine intervention I don’t know what is. So now I have a new purpose and I’m going on a mission.”

“What is your purpose and where are you going?”

“My purpose is to stop the exploitation of children. I’m going to Europe. I’m going to make sure Tatiana’s sister Tereza and Tatiana’s best friend Leona are safe and I’m going to help the orphanage in any way I can. And I’m going to stop this happening. I don’t care if I can only help one girl at a time. I’m going to help as many as I can. I can’t do anything for Tatiana. I tried to find her. I thought about calling all the ‘Singles’ bars and clubs that Nigel goes to but if I do that and the men watching her get spooked they could really harm her. I can’t go to the police, especially if some of them patronize brothels – they won’t help me find her.”

***

Inside the police station Detective Kowalski pretended to study the arrest sheet in front of him for a few moments then looked up, “Mr. McKenna, you have been arrested for the possible murder of your wife as well as assaulting two police officers. My men have found papers in your house which indicate that you took out a life insurance policy on your wife. You added a clause to include ‘missing’. How do you explain that? How do you explain that your wife is missing and you added a last minute clause to include payment if she is missing or if her body is never found?”

“I didn’t do that. I took the policy out, sure, but I didn’t add a clause. Someone else must have done that! It wasn’t me!”

“So who did it?” Kowalski asked. “The aliens?”

***

 

“I sold the house two days ago. The buyer has been after it for years and offered to pay within twenty-four hours. I stopped payment on his car and told the car people to take it back. Now I have about fifty thousand dollars in a private account and I’m going to disappear.”

“What if I can make that happen, Dorothy?”

“How?”

“I know an Agency that could use people like you in Europe to help stop human trafficking. I’ll help you get a new identification and disappear.” He thought of Elaina and he felt a surge of anger followed by . . . hope.

Dorothy stared at him, “You’re serious aren’t you?”

“When it comes to helping to save innocent children, I’m very serious. The question is Dorothy, are you?”

“Yes.”

“That’s all I need to know. First, let’s get my wife and son out of here. Cara’s brother is in London. He has a house in Oakland that we can stay in for a few months. You need to get a new perspective, I need to get some rest and then we need to get you to Europe.”

 

 

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Despite all odds: A Dream Fulfilled Part 1

Despite all odds: A Dream Fulfilled Part 2

Truths, Lies And Untold Secrets

Blood Borne Connections

U Murder U (Suicide)

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What Gives A Man

 

Blood Borne Connections – Chapter 9

DSCN1170[1]

 

Chapter 9

 

Inside Interrogation Room 15 LAPD

 

“Mr. McKenna, can you hear me? Nigel McKenna, I need to know what drugs you took last night,” the doctor on call asked. Pen poised to write, he waited for Nigel to tell him.

Nigel didn’t answer.

“Mr. McKenna, I’m asking as a doctor. Just tell me so that I can fill out my paperwork. I’m not going to report you.”

Nigel heard the voice as he slowly floated back to earth. The effect of the ‘spiked’ Indian hemp he had smoked last night coupled with the sedation the paramedic had administered was fading. He knew that he was sitting down but for some reason he couldn’t feel his legs. He saw his hands searching for his legs but couldn’t feel anything. “Maybe the aliens took them,” a voice mockingly whispered. He looked around the room to see who had spoken but the two men in the room were looking at him, waiting for him to speak.

“Doc, will you excuse us a minute?” Detective Kowalski asked. He walked over to the door, opened it, and indicated with his head that the doctor should leave.

“Detective, I need to fill out my paperwork-”

“Doc I need to find out where this man’s wife is. Go talk to the inspector if you’re not clear on what is more important at this stage, a human life or your paperwork!”

“But-”

“Come back later, Doc,” Kowalski told him as he gently shoved him out and closed the door.    “Now Mr. McKenna, it’s just you and me. My name is Detective Kowalski and I need to know where your wife is. Do you remember what happened to Dorothy?”

“Who?” Nigel asked.

“Dorothy, your wife, Dorothy, where is she?”

“The aliens took her,” Nigel replied, smiled and closed his eyes as he continued to float.

Detective Kowalski kicked at the chair Nigel sat in. Nigel’s eyes flew open as he fell back. He cried out in pain as he hit his head on the wall behind him. Kowalski pulled him up and kicked the chair out of the way. He grabbed Nigel as he tried to back away and pinned him up against the wall. “You’re not so tough now are you? I hear you like hitting women. What say you and me go out back, one on one, right now! You think you can take me on? Or is it just defenseless women that you like to hit?”

“I don’t know where my wife is, the last time I saw her was last night before I went to bed. I went to sleep and when I woke up this morning I saw signs that the aliens-”

“Ah, ah, ah, ah, no bull, I don’t want to hear about your drug induced aliens. Did you hit your wife last night?”

“Last night?”

“Yes last night, did you hit her?”

Nigel frowned as he tried to remember, “Last night?”

“Did she decide that enough was enough and she wasn’t going to put up with you beating her anymore? Did she stand up to you? Is that why her blood is all over your bed sheets? Did you stab your wife to death? Did you dump her body somewhere?”

“What? No! I didn’t stab her!”

“But you beat her?”

“I don’t remember beating her last night.”

“But you remember beating her on other nights?”

“I don’t really beat her, I just give her the odd slap now and then to keep her in line, let her know who the boss is.”

“I hear you like being the boss. According to our records you’ve fractured her ribs, broken her arm, and you beat her whenever you pretty much feel like beating her.”

“I don’t remember beating her last night, in fact I’m sure I didn’t beat her last night, maybe I slapped her the night before but not last night and I didn’t stab her!”

Detective Kowalski pushed him against the wall and turned away from him, disgusted. He had two daughters and the thought of one of them marrying a man like this filled him with dread. He turned back quickly, raised his hand and slapped Nigel across the face. Nigel staggered backwards and he grabbed him and slapped him again. “Is that how you used to slap her in the past to keep her in line? Did you go too far this time?”

The door swung open; both men turned.

“Can I see you out here for a second, Kowalski?” Inspector Carter Goodman said and waited for him to walk out of the room.

As soon as the door closed Kowalski braced himself for what he knew was coming.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Kowalski?”

“Trying to do my job, Sir.”

“By hitting him? By pushing him around? How does that constitute doing your job? Once his lawyer gets here, sees the bruises and talks to him, he can get him to file an assault charge against you.”

“Sir-”

“Listen, don’t you think we have enough trouble with lawyers and journalists accusing us of being violent and in bed with the Mafia? I’m sick and tired of the stories written about the men in blue being just as corrupt as the Mafia and just as brutal as well. I’ve lost a number of good men who made bad choices. I don’t want to lose you, Kowalski, but I won’t stand back and let you do this. As your boss, I’m telling you now, question him with your mouth and not your hands, do you hear me?”

“Yes Sir.”

Ebooks from GLL Publishing available at Amazon, Smashwords etc – Books also available via http://www.gllpublishing.com

Despite all odds: A Dream Fulfilled Part 1

Despite all odds: A Dream Fulfilled Part 2

Truths, Lies And Untold Secrets

Blood Borne Connections

U Murder U (Suicide)

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Blood Borne Connections – Chapter 8

Blood Borne Connections - book cover

 

 

Chapter 8

 

“Are Catholics Christians?” Dorothy asked.

Julius studied her for a moment not sure where her question was leading. “Why do ask?”

“My husband used to hit me, abuse me, lie to me and cheat on me. Each time I told him that he wasn’t behaving like a Christian he would say that he wasn’t a Christian, he was a Catholic. I’m a Christian and I thought that Catholics were Christians. I used to pray and pray to God to make him change, to make him love me the way I loved him but God didn’t change him . . . nothing changed him.”

“I’m a Christian and I was raised in the Catholic Church. Last time I checked, Catholics are Christians. My wife grew up in a Pentecostal Church. I find it more charismatic than the church I grew up in but they more or less preach the same thing. I believe it’s all about one God, one Word and one Love – it’s not about a denomination. People think a church is just a building what they don’t see is that the real church is the people inside the building and it doesn’t even end there, it’s also about the relationship those people have with God. We are supposed to do the right thing, not by force but because we want to. We all have free will and we get to make our own choices. It’s because of free will that God doesn’t force people to change. I believe that God creates situations for people to change but ultimately it’s down to the individual.”

“You asked me if I killed my husband, the truth is he killed me . . . he took my life and destroyed it.”

“Give me your hand.”

“Why?”

“My mom used to do this to me when I was younger and I used to think that things were hopeless. Come on, give me your hand and look at me.”

She reluctantly gave him her hand and looked into his eyes. He sat holding her hand and looking at her. Without breaking eye contact, he picked up his coffee cup and placed it on her hand. It took a few seconds for what he had done to register. He smiled when he saw her frown, snatch her hand away then jump back startled and rub her hand.

“Owww, what . . . why did you do that?”

“Do what? I thought you said you’re husband killed you. If you were dead you wouldn’t have felt that.”

“You burned me to show me that I’m still alive?”

“No, I burned you to show you that you’re not dead. Where there is life there is hope and where there is hope there is usually a long rope to use with faith and climb out of a situation. You said your husband abused you and hurt you and that you prayed and prayed for God to change him. Did it ever occur to you that God heard your prayers when you first prayed and that maybe God has changed something in your life, maybe He has changed you?”

Moments passed as she stared at him; his words brought clarity to her soul – tears glistened in her eyes. “I didn’t kill him,” she finally sobbed, “God knows I wanted too. I had the knife in my hand and I was ready to stick it into his heart but I thought about his mother and what it would do to her. How my using the knife might hurt her.”

“I don’t understand,” Julius frowned.

“I was standing above him when I looked at the knife. In the middle of all the madness in my head the knife seemed to have a bizarre calming effect on me. You see, it was part of a set his mother had given to me for Christmas some years ago. I really care about his mother; she has always been kind to me. I’m an orphan and his mother is the closest thing to a mother I ever had. She told me to leave him when he first started to hit me but I wouldn’t. I had this strange thought when I was looking at the knife – if I stabbed him and he died his mother would think that I hated her, not because I had killed her son but because I had used the knife she had given me. I didn’t want her feeling bad so I stabbed the pillow next to his head. I was about to leave when I thought I’d better move the knife away from his head in case he turned in his sleep and cut himself. I tried to get the knife out of the pillow and ended up cutting my hand and getting blood all over the pillow and bed sheets; there was so much blood everywhere. Then I had this idea. I knew that he was paranoid about being abducted by aliens. His mother told me once that when he was younger she had to work most nights and his father had to watch him, his brother and sister. Well, his father would bring women to the house when she was at work. Nigel used to get up some nights and wander around half asleep so his father told him that if he didn’t stay in his room aliens would get him. He would tell Nigel horror stories of how aliens had taken people away and experimented on them by eating their brains. His father was a mean man. I guess theirs is the case of like father like son. For some reason Nigel kept on wandering around in the middle of the night half asleep, so one night his irate father decided to teach him a lesson. He put foil paper all over the basement, draped some dummies with silver material and placed some flickering lights around the room then he carried a sleeping Nigel from his bed to the basement and put him on sheets stained with red ‘blood-like’ paint and locked him in there. Nigel woke up and thought that he had been abducted by aliens. He banged on the door for hours but his father refused to let him out. That night traumatized him. He never left his bed at night again. Now he hates the color silver and flickering colored lights and he can’t touch foil paper without hyperventilating-”

“Are you serious?”

She nodded, “Guess how I found out?”

“How?”

“One day in the early days of our marriage, this is going back a few years, I made him a sandwich and wrapped it in foil paper to keep it fresh. I left it on a dish by the window because he was having a nap. It must have been about thirty or so minutes later when I heard him screaming and shouting. I ran upstairs to see what was going on and found him cowering on the floor next to our bed. Somehow, the sun and a mirror on the wall were reflecting light off the foil paper and different colored lights were flickering on the wall. When I managed to calm him down he told me he thought the aliens had come to get him again then he cried like a baby and insisted I get rid of the foil alien on the dish. To keep him calm I played along and made a big effort of putting on some rubber gloves, un-wrapping the sandwich and holding the foil at a distance as I took it out of the room. I called his mom afterwards and she explained what his dad had done when he was a boy. That’s why I did what I did today.”

“What did you do?”

“I capitalized on his fear. I had a stash of foil paper which I scattered around the room. I put some on the pillow next to him and left the knife lying in the blood on the sheets. I figured that his drug-induced mind would take care of the rest. He was always using drugs. He would spike Indian hemp with LSD or heroin. I used to think that the drugs made him mean but I think that he was just born that way. When you marry someone you never expect they’ll end up hating you.” She paused as she struggled to control her emotions, “I used to be so scared of the thought that ‘he hated me’ that I buried my head in the sand. I was desperate for love and affection, I did everything he asked me to do but he still hated me.” She froze when she realized that she was being held gently in strong arms.

“You’re free,” Julius told her. “Hate has no power over you as long as you don’t hate in return. I learned that lesson years ago. His hate has nothing to do with you and everything to do with him. You could have killed him but you didn’t; you made the choice not to – despite his hate. He can’t hurt you any more, Dorothy.”

“Nigel said I was a reject because I grew up in an orphanage. He said that I was useless and no one would ever love me. He said that I was a dumb hill-billy. He said-”

“Shhhh, shhhh, forget about what he said about you. What do you say? What do you see when you look in the mirror?”

“I don’t understand.”

“When you look in the mirror do you see the person he says you are or do you see you?”

She shrugged.

“Do you want to know what I see?”

Again she shrugged.

“I see you. I see a strong, attractive and very smart woman. You’re compassionate and loveable. My wife has nothing but good things to say about you and I trust and respect her judgment. I say you’ve been through the worst, now, you deserve the best. You just have to see and believe that things can and will get better for you, Dorothy.”

“How . . . how do I do that?”

“Start by thinking of his words as poison and detox your mind of them, get rid of all the negative hurtful things he said and did to you – then take one new day at a time.”

She looked at him, desperate and confused, “I want that so badly, I just don’t know how to do that.” Silent tears coursed down her face.

Julius studied her for a few moments, “When I was seven years old my maternal grandfather told me something that I have never forgotten. He said thousands of years ago there was a man who was really old and he didn’t have any children but he had great faith in God. One night God took this man outside and told him to look up at the sky and try to count the stars in the sky. Even though this man was old and his wife was also old and past child-bearing age, God told him that he would give him as many descendants as there were stars in the sky. My grandfather said when the man looked up at the sky that night because of his faith he could see how many descendants he was going to have, they were like lights shining in the sky, but not only that – he could see me. My grandfather said I was one of those stars and I had to believe that I was created to be a light and help others. You were one of those stars, Dorothy, and you have to believe you were created to be a light and help others. Darkness and negativity can’t survive in the light – so let go of all the things that have caused you so much pain and embrace the happiness you deserve. With the happiness comes love and the need to help others, I can see it in you, you just have to see it as well.”

“I don’t understand?”

“With all that you’ve been through, you took the time to help my wife and son Dorothy. I can see the goodness in you and I will do whatever it takes to make you see it as well, whatever it takes.”

 Unbeknown to Dorothy, Julius had just spoken words that laid the foundation for a change in the course of her life.

Dorothy felt an unfamiliar feeling take over her – people who knew her, like her mother-in-law and Juanita, had told her similar things in the past but she had thought that they were just being kind. This stranger had nothing to gain and didn’t have to be kind. He didn’t have to hold her in his arms until she stopped shaking. He didn’t have to comfort her as she cried. He didn’t have to say things to her that made her believe her life could change . . . but he did. “Now I know why Cara married you,” she said after a while.

Ebooks from GLL Publishing available at Amazon, Smashwords etc – Books also available via http://www.gllpublishing.com

Despite all odds: A Dream Fulfilled Part 1

Despite all odds: A Dream Fulfilled Part 2

Truths, Lies And Untold Secrets

Blood Borne Connections

U Murder U (Suicide)

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