Blood Borne Connections – Chapter 14 – ‘Tatiana – My Death’

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Chapter 14

                

‘Tatiana – My Death’

 

There is a memory that I used to cling to but sadly it is beginning to fade – I am running in the field next to my house in Czechoslovakia as fast as my little legs can carry me. I am three or maybe four years old and to me the field seems to go on forever and ever. It is as though I am running to the end of the world. I am happy! I am free! I am free! I am not in this vile place where married men with wedding bands on, single men, old men and young men used my body every day. Seven days a week the door would open and a man would walk in at any time of the day and have sex with me. At first I refused, I tried to reason with them, I told them I was only fifteen. I tried to fight them . . .

 

Once I scratched an old man across his face, punched and kicked him as he undressed. Dazed he stumbled around the room, his fat belly flapping about and his trousers at his knees. He went crazy, called out for help and the next thing I knew, I was beaten, held down and raped by four men. The old man laughed and goaded the men on as he watched; afterwards he slashed my arm with a knife, called me ‘Tatiana the tiger’ and said now that I had been tamed he would come back for his turn the next day. As he walked towards the door he laughed as one of the men urinated on me and another kicked me several times in my stomach so badly that for days I passed blood in my urine and I thought I was going to die from the pain. After this happened I realized it was easier to just obey the men and do whatever they asked me to do. I would look at some of the older men and think, ‘Don’t you have a sister, a cousin or a daughter? Is this something that you would want her to go through? Is this something that I look like I enjoy doing? Can’t you see that I am a prisoner in this house being forced to have sex with you? How can you not see this? My blood is on your hands! You are paying a man who has threatened to kill my sister if I don’t lie on this bed and let you do as you please with me!’ I didn’t voice my thoughts because I knew what would happen if I did. I often wondered what would happen if I had a knife . . .

 

Rape is a vicious thing. It is not gentle or considerate. To the recipient it is violent and painful. I have been held down like a piece of meat while men violated me again and again. They’ve beaten me, they’ve kicked me, they’ve urinated on me, they’ve forced me to take drugs and they’ve treated me like dirt. Did I deserve this? No I didn’t. No one deserved this. Did I try to escape? Every single opportunity that I saw! I have lost count of the number of times I tried to escape from the public bars they took us to. They took us to these ‘Singles’ bars and clubs, lied about our ages, and men paid for our company or to have sex with us in dirty toilets or in the alley at the back. Every time I tried to escape from one of these places I was always caught and punished. The only reason they took me back was because some customers asked for me personally. You see I learned the fine art of keeping the men in these bars occupied with buying more expensive alcohol while I pretended to hang on to their every word. I acted like they were kings and pampered their egos. This kept me out of the toilets and back allies, it gave more money to Vitto and it gave me the chance to think and plan how I would escape.

 

The house we stayed in was like a heavily guarded fort. We were not allowed outside of the front door and we were watched whenever we went out the back door to the backyard. We were only allowed to go to the backyard twice a week for ten minutes: our one luxury. There was no greenery, it was just an open space surrounded by high walls with barbed wire looped in a tight coil on top – there was no way out. I would sit on the back step and wish that I could somehow climb to the top of the wall, squeeze between the barbed wire and escape.

 

One day I came in from the backyard and saw that someone had left the front door of the house open; I looked out and saw a police car drive past the house slowly. The police officer inside looked at the house and for a few seconds our eyes locked. I looked around quickly and saw that no one was watching me so I ran out of the house and followed the car. It went around a corner and I ran faster as I tried to catch up with it. When I turned the corner I saw that it had stopped. I ran up to the driver’s side and banged on the window screaming at the police officer to help me. He put me in the car and questioned me. I explained everything that went on in the house and begged him to come with me and rescue the other girls. I knew some of the men in the house had guns but this police officer’s gun was bigger than theirs and they wouldn’t shoot a police officer. They were cowards, which was why they raped little girls. He told me he would put in a call to his station and they would send some officers to assist him. He spoke to someone on his car radio in some sort of police code then he started the car. As we drove to the house he told me some police officers would meet us there. He parked the car in front of the house and told me to come inside with him to talk to Vitto while we waited for the other officers. I froze. I never mentioned Vitto’s name. How did he know Vitto? He must have seen my reaction and realized he had said something wrong because he pulled his gun out, pointed it at me and told me to get out of the car on his side. He pulled me to the front door and banged on it several times. When Vitto opened the door he pushed me inside and told Vitto that he needed to control his whores. That day I was beaten with a baseball bat until I thought I was going to die. Now I keep quiet and I do what I am told to do. They may use my body but my mind is free. In my mind I escape; I run in the field next to my house in Czechoslovakia and I am three or four years old. These men talk dirty to me, they force me to do disgusting things and they do disgusting things to me but my mind is free.

 

Something strange happened one night at a ‘Singles’ bar. I met a man called Nigel and pretended to hang on to his every word. I mentioned that I hadn’t been to Disneyland and he said he would take me there. He boasted about getting a lot of money from his wife. One of Vitto’s men heard him and told me to ‘sting’ him. I was to pretend to like him and get as much money out of him as I could. Nigel gave me his home number and told me to call him whenever I wanted. Vitto’s man obviously thought that there was a large amount of money to be made because he allowed me to call Nigel at home – he said I had to keep Nigel sweet because he often came to the bar just to see me and he spent hundreds of dollars each time. One night when Nigel was drunk he told me about a life insurance policy he had taken out on his wife and how he planned to kill her and use the money to spoil me. He was a crazy fool and I felt sorry for the woman married to him. Early one morning I told Vitto’s man that I had to call Nigel to remind him to bring some extra money to the bar that evening. I knew Nigel wouldn’t be home because he had told me he was visiting a friend. I called his house and spoke to his wife, I told her everything. I hope she kills him before he kills her. I hate all men associated with stealing children, selling children, and sleeping with children. I cannot punish them but I hope the God Leona is always praying to will punish them one day.

 

So many men have used me. I have a disease that causes me so much stomach pain and there is a lot of fluid that leaks like a discharge from my vagina. I have asked some of the other girls and they also have this disease but we have agreed to keep quiet. Some new girls arrived yesterday and we were told that we would have to leave the house and go somewhere else. Hanna said that Tommy told her this meant we would be sold to Asians or killed by Vitto’s men. The Asians did not buy girls who had diseases; they had a doctor who examined the girls and anyone that was diseased was rejected. She said that Tommy had a plan . . .

 

The Asians rejected both Hanna and I and Gabriela (she came from the orphanage with us) and the other girls who are sitting with us in the back of this truck. The two girls who also came with us from the orphanage then disappeared after a few months are here. They were brought to the Asians by their owner and were also rejected due to their disease. It is strange that the five of us left the orphanage together, traveled through Europe, came to America and are now seated in the back of this truck. How much hope we had had on the day we boarded the bus that would take us to America – the land of dreams and opportunities. I remember we had sung songs on the bus, we had laughed and we had planned our future. What had happened to us was never listed as part of our plans. Americans say that life has a way of throwing you a curve ball. I say that a lack of love and human compassion throw the curve balls, life just plays along. As I look at the faces of the girls here with me I see no fear. We have lived as almost dead for months and now that the reality of death may be moments away it is almost like a welcomed friend.

 

The truck stops again. We can hear men arguing. Guns are fired several times as men shout at each other. The back door of the truck is flung open and guns are fired several times at us as we cower together in a corner . . . I feel the pain of a bullet; it is hot, sharp and searing, yet it is nothing compared to the pain I have endured at the hands of Vitto, his men and his customers . . . this pain is actually a release.

 

I am running in the endless green field next to my house in Czechoslovakia. I think that I must be running to the end of the world. I run faster and faster. I am no longer three or four years old, I am fifteen. Suddenly I stop running; the field has come to an end – I must be dead.

 

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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)

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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Blood Borne Connections – Chapter 5

Two Plants

Chapter 5

 

Julius gently picked up his sleeping son and placed him in the crib next to the bed. He quickly glanced at his wife to make sure he had not disturbed her. She was still asleep. He looked down at his son as he slept with one tiny hand rested against his cheek. Julius wondered at the human heart and its propensity, how it could grow to accommodate more love as and when required. He loved this child more than he could have ever fathomed. He touched his son’s hand with his finger and marveled at how his son instantly wrapped his tiny hand around his finger even as he slept. His heart fluttered at what he perceived to be a smile from his son. ‘He knows that I love him’, he thought as he caressed his tiny cheek. “I will always love you, Tyrone,” he whispered as he bent and kissed his son’s cheek.

“I guess it’s going to be Tyrone, then,” Cara said softly as she looked at him, “my dad will be pleased we’ve given his first grandson his name, Tyrone Julius Kempton, I like the sound of that.”

He looked at her and smiled, as always she stirred his heart and took his breath away. “I love you, Mrs. Kempton.”

“I love you too, Julius Maxwell Kempton,” she smiled at him as she stifled a yawn and started to sit up.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting up-”

“Oh no you’re not, the nurse said that you need to rest.” He took off his jacket, hid his gun in the pocket, kicked off his shoes, climbed onto the bed and pulled her gently against him.

“What are you doing?”

“Making sure you rest, close your eyes-”

“Maxwell-”

“Close your eyes, you need to rest.”

“But I’m not really that tired.” She buried her face in his chest as she yawned.

“Baby, I can feel you yawning.”

“How can you feel someone yawning?” She yawned again.

He yawned, “You’re using up all the oxygen in the room and you’re making me yawn as well.”

She wrapped her arms around him, “Talk to me so that I can fall asleep.”

“Are you trying to tell me something?”

“Like what?”

“Ummm, like the sound of my voice sends you to sleep.”

“The sound of your voice makes my senses tingle, it is sexy and soothing; your voice is like a silky kiss on a beautiful summer day and a luxuriously warm drink on a cold winter night.”

“Of all the women in the world I had to fall in love with a beautiful journalist who writes poetry. I remember the first night I saw you, there was this confidence about you, and this inner beauty that I knew I wanted to be in my life.” He looked down at her. Her eyes were closed and she was smiling.

“I’m listening,” she whispered.

“Remember the first, second and third time I asked you to marry me and you turned me down?”

She nodded.

“The day you agreed to marry me was one of . . .”

***

The neighbors heard the screaming, the sound of breaking glass and the banging of a hammer. Juanita Ortega lived in the house next door. She heard the sound of fear and she smiled. As instructed, she waited for five minutes then dialed 911. She told the female operator who answered her call to send the police, paramedics and a fire truck because she didn’t know what the problem was but it sounded like someone was being murdered and she could smell smoke. She couldn’t really smell smoke but she knew that this was the only way to get an immediate response. Last week when a young neighborhood girl had been knocked off her bike by a joy-rider, the police and paramedics had been called and it took them twenty-seven minutes to turn up. The fact that the nearest police station was two blocks away and the local hospital was three blocks away made a mockery of the motto ‘Protect and Serve’. Juanita took the latch off the door and went out onto the street where some of the other neighbors had already gathered. No one had made the attempt to get into the house. Then again no one wanted to be accused of breaking-and-entering. A man on Fifth and Strasberg, which was five blocks away, heading in the direction of Pomona, had forcibly gained entrance into the apartment of a female neighbor when he had heard her screaming for help one night. He had kicked the front door open and rushed in swinging a baseball bat in front of him. He saw the assailant beating the woman up and immediately swung at him with the bat. He fractured two of the man’s ribs and knocked out one of his teeth. He was only trying to be a good neighbor but for his reward he was arrested for assault and given a suspended sentence. He lost his job while he was being held in custody and his marriage fell apart because the perpetrator’s lawyer had insinuated the hint of a possible affair between the hero and the victim. The perpetrator who had broken into the woman’s house to rob and kill her, however, spent two weeks in a private hospital and then walked free. There had been a public outcry, people protested at the injustice done to the hero who had only tried to help a neighbor but he didn’t get his job back and his wife moved out of state.

 

People stood outside the house and waited for the law enforcers and paramedics to come. No one made an attempt to get into the house. No one wanted to be a hero.

Inside the house, Nigel McKenna was in a deep state of drug-induced madness. He saw aliens everywhere he looked and, as a result, he ran around breaking things, cussing and screaming that he would kill them. He saw their twisted silver faces in the mirrors on the walls, so he broke the mirrors. He saw their shiny eyes staring at him from the TV screen, so he smashed the TV. He had to destroy them before they destroyed him. They had taken Dorothy and he would not let them take him.

 

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

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Truths, Lies And Untold Secrets

Blood Borne Connections

U Murder U (Suicide)

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Sex Trafficking – Interview with Detectives Malcolm and Kowalski – aka The Two Presidents!

The following Newspaper Headlines taken from Chapter 25 of Blood Borne Connections

A Mass Grave in LA!

Girls Gruesome Slaughter!

Are there more innocent girls out there?

100s possibly 1000s more girls and boys out there being used as Prostitutes!

Americans must find the Innocent Children!

 

Today as promised I am with two of Americas’ finest, Detective John Malcolm and Detective Jefferson Kowalski of the LAPD. These two officers were the ones who discovered the mass grave the newspapers are writing about. They were the ones who uncovered the Gruesome Slaughter of young innocent girls who had been sex trafficked from Eastern Europe to Los Angeles! Before I start I would just like to say that these are two of the most striking looking men I have ever met. Tall, handsome and very down to earth.

Detectives you are both very welcomed, I know you’re both busy and you have only agreed to give me  a few minutes of your time so shall we start.

Malcolm: Sure

Kowalski: Fine with me

Interviewer: Did you both always know you were going to be police officers?

Malcolm: No, I studied law but decided after I passed the bar exams that I wanted to be cop.

Kowalski: Yes, I always wanted to be a cop.

Malcolm: No you didn’t, you tried out-

Kowalski: I told you that in confidence Johnson.

Malcolm: And, I told you to call me John and not Johnson.

Interviewer: Ummmm, gentlemen, are we good here?

Both: Were good (both smile)

Malcolm: This is a really hard topic for us and the banter thing we do is just to focus on the positive. We see dead people everyday in our line of work but seeing dead children is something that you never get used to. Then finding out that they were abused, rapped, drugged, beaten, shot and their bodies put in a hole which was going to be the foundation of a building is shocking.

Kowalski: I have two daughters, and seeing those girls like that made me sick. The hole they put them in had limestone in it which meant that by the time we found them some of their body parts had literally melted away! Those girls had parents, family, friends, they had people who cared about them. They were tricked into coming to America but ultimately they wanted to make a better life for themselves. America is the land of opportunities but right from the start those girls were not given any opportunities.

Interviewer: Ummmm, you have answered a number of the questions I had written down to ask you about how you felt. How many girls do you think are out there going through what those girls went through?

Malcolm: Thousands, tens of thousands!

Kowalski: I agree with my partner, I also think that hundreds upon hundreds of girls and boys have been murdered when they got too worn out, when they contracted a sexually transmitted disease. This is not just a thing that girls suffer this also happens to boys.

Interviewer: The million dollar question detectives – How do we stop it?

Malcolm: Sex trafficking is supplying a demand. Get rid of the demand by any means possible then you’ll stop the supply.

Kowalski: When I think of my daughters and the thought of anyone harming them, I’m inclined to say kill the bastards! Get every single one of those perverts, line them up and shoot them or castrate them!

Malcolm: Man I don’t think you can say that on the air

Kowalski: Why not, we all think it, why can’t we say it?

Malcolm: Because Jefferson, you don’t want to start a riot, we don’t want vigilantes taking the law into their own hands and killing or castrating the perverted, depraved bastards, we have to be seen as doing the right thing.

Interviewer: How do we stop it within the restraints of the law?

Malcolm: By prosecuting the perverts, by having tougher sentences in place and by confiscating any monies made from prostitution and using it to rehabilitate the victims.

Kowalski: By exposing those married men, those single men, those old men and those evil men who pay to have sex with children! And as Malcolm said by stopping the demand you eliminate the need for the supply!

Interviewer: Thank you detectives, thank you for your time and your honesty. Listeners the two Presidents have spoken!

 

 

 

Watch the ‘Blood Borne Connections’ video on YouTube, listen to Tatiana’s story.  

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New book about Teenage suicide pacts coming soon

U MURDER U – Suicide by Gladys Lawson

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Tatiana – My life before my hell in America!

Once upon a time I was more than just a 15 year old sex slave!

Once upon a time I had a life, a home and parents who loved me!

I was born in Czechoslovakia.

My parents, Jakub and Katerina were schoolteachers in a small town not too far from Prague. My father, he taught History and my mother she taught English. When I was born my country was under a communist regime and had been for many years. I would sit at my father’s feet and listen to him talk about my country and how the Czechs and the Slovaks united to form the country despite the cultural, historical and religious differences they had. My father was so proud of my country and would talk and talk about its history, my mother on the other hand loved my country but not the communist regime.

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 was running 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 their lives. At three or four I didn’t notice how isolated we were because my parents were sufficient for me.

When I was seven years old my mother had a baby girl. She was given the name Tereza and she was like a little fat ‘moving’ doll who 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 and other countries of the world while my mother took care of Tereza. I loved learning new English words and I loved listening to my parents talk about life in countries like America and England. They would speak in English mixed with my language and I would grasp hold of a new English word spoken and add it to my mental dictionary. You see I had a plan. My plan was to learn as many words as possible so that I could use them when I grew up to teach. Even at a young age I had dreams, I knew I wanted to become a teacher like my parents, marry a man like my father and be happy like my mother.

I had dreams . . . None of my dreams included being brought to America and forced to have sex with nearly twenty men a day before my sixteenth birthday! Men look at me now, after they have used my body, as if I am rubbish, trash, not worthy of breathing the same air as them. Sometimes I wish they would look at me that way before then maybe they would leave me alone. These men don’t know me or know about my dreams. They don’t care that I once had a life, a home and parents who loved me.

Once upon a time I was more than just a 15 year old sex slave!

Once upon a time I had dreams!

 

Excerpts taken from ‘Blood Borne Connections’ by Gladys Lawson

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