Trafficked The Diary of a Sex Slave Read Online Free PDF Page A
Author: Sibel Hodge
this, and then a horrible guilt twists my stomach. It is not her fault she cannot tell me what I want to know.
Day 34
My mother is dead and Liliana has been sent to an orphanage.
I wish I did not know. I wish Christina still could not talk. I can hardly see the pages on my diary through my tears.
Christina said my mother had a heart attack about a week after I left. Liliana stayed with a neighbour, until the authorities came and took her away to who knows where.
They are gone, and I never got to say goodbye.
For hours I have sat in my room on the floor with my arms wrapped around me for comfort. My eyes are puffy and red, and Angelina will not be happy when she sees the state of me.
My mother has always been there to comfort me throughout my life. We did not have much money, it is true, but I never lacked any love or warmth. She was my rock. She told me I was special; that I could do whatever I wanted to in life.
Part of me hates her because she was wrong about that, and part of me hates her for leaving me. It is a stupid idea. Ridiculous, I know. How can I hate my mother?
I used to pour my heart out to her. I used to tell her everything. I am not sure I will be able to do that with anybody else. I do not think I could. All my dreams and hopes have disappeared with her.
And Liliana…
Is she safe? Are they hurting her in the orphanage? Is she getting enough to eat? Is she warm, or shivering with cold? Does she have clean clothes? Is Ivan with her? Is she hurt? Will she be kidnapped? Sold?
I have to find her.
I picture her, sitting on a dirty bed in a big, horrible dormitory with other small children who do not speak. She is staring at the floor with her huge dark eyes, sucking her thumb and wondering where her mummy and grandma have gone. Wondering why they have deserted her.
Oh, Liliana, I am here. I love you more than life itself, baby.
My heart feels like it has been ripped from my body, stamped on a million times, then pushed back in so I can carry on hurting. My stomach is on fire with uncontrollable flames of anger. The injustice of this world makes me sick. This is not fair. What have I done to deserve this?
I am empty inside. A horrible, dark, loneliness is crushing me from within.
Liliana.
How can I get to my baby from here?
I have an idea that has been tumbling around in my head since the policemen came. I do not know if I can do it. I do not know if it will work, but I have to try. I have to find Liliana.
Day 35
I feel like I am in a dark pit, trying to claw my way out. Pain, pain, pain in my soul that will never go away.
I cannot stand waiting for the policemen to arrive, and yet they are my only hope. Will they come tonight? I never thought I would long for one of the men to come and see me.
The minutes of the day tick by until it has been a whole hour. I do not know how, but I get through to the next hour, and then the next. Hoping. Waiting for my opportunity.
I have no energy, and I eat only because when the time comes I need to be ready. Food tastes of nothing. It is abrasive, and it is all I can do to swallow without choking.
Part of me is dead, too.
Day 37
I have made a very big mistake and I cannot change it. Now my situation is far worse.
Last night, when the policemen came, I acted willing, compliant. I wanted one of them to choose me. Inside I cringed as I draped my arms around them and flirted as if I wanted them.
Flirted! To me that word implies that I am free to do as I choose.
One of the younger policemen I had not seen before could not resist me. It was easy to get him into my bedroom. I was playing a game. Sexy, teasing. But nearby, in the corner of the room was my bag, ready and waiting.
I undressed him slowly as he licked his lips at the anticipation of what was to come.
I unbuttoned his shirt and threw it on the nearby chair.
It was easy to undo his belt with his gun and handcuffs on it and drape it over a nearby chair.
For once, I was in
Day 34
My mother is dead and Liliana has been sent to an orphanage.
I wish I did not know. I wish Christina still could not talk. I can hardly see the pages on my diary through my tears.
Christina said my mother had a heart attack about a week after I left. Liliana stayed with a neighbour, until the authorities came and took her away to who knows where.
They are gone, and I never got to say goodbye.
For hours I have sat in my room on the floor with my arms wrapped around me for comfort. My eyes are puffy and red, and Angelina will not be happy when she sees the state of me.
My mother has always been there to comfort me throughout my life. We did not have much money, it is true, but I never lacked any love or warmth. She was my rock. She told me I was special; that I could do whatever I wanted to in life.
Part of me hates her because she was wrong about that, and part of me hates her for leaving me. It is a stupid idea. Ridiculous, I know. How can I hate my mother?
I used to pour my heart out to her. I used to tell her everything. I am not sure I will be able to do that with anybody else. I do not think I could. All my dreams and hopes have disappeared with her.
And Liliana…
Is she safe? Are they hurting her in the orphanage? Is she getting enough to eat? Is she warm, or shivering with cold? Does she have clean clothes? Is Ivan with her? Is she hurt? Will she be kidnapped? Sold?
I have to find her.
I picture her, sitting on a dirty bed in a big, horrible dormitory with other small children who do not speak. She is staring at the floor with her huge dark eyes, sucking her thumb and wondering where her mummy and grandma have gone. Wondering why they have deserted her.
Oh, Liliana, I am here. I love you more than life itself, baby.
My heart feels like it has been ripped from my body, stamped on a million times, then pushed back in so I can carry on hurting. My stomach is on fire with uncontrollable flames of anger. The injustice of this world makes me sick. This is not fair. What have I done to deserve this?
I am empty inside. A horrible, dark, loneliness is crushing me from within.
Liliana.
How can I get to my baby from here?
I have an idea that has been tumbling around in my head since the policemen came. I do not know if I can do it. I do not know if it will work, but I have to try. I have to find Liliana.
Day 35
I feel like I am in a dark pit, trying to claw my way out. Pain, pain, pain in my soul that will never go away.
I cannot stand waiting for the policemen to arrive, and yet they are my only hope. Will they come tonight? I never thought I would long for one of the men to come and see me.
The minutes of the day tick by until it has been a whole hour. I do not know how, but I get through to the next hour, and then the next. Hoping. Waiting for my opportunity.
I have no energy, and I eat only because when the time comes I need to be ready. Food tastes of nothing. It is abrasive, and it is all I can do to swallow without choking.
Part of me is dead, too.
Day 37
I have made a very big mistake and I cannot change it. Now my situation is far worse.
Last night, when the policemen came, I acted willing, compliant. I wanted one of them to choose me. Inside I cringed as I draped my arms around them and flirted as if I wanted them.
Flirted! To me that word implies that I am free to do as I choose.
One of the younger policemen I had not seen before could not resist me. It was easy to get him into my bedroom. I was playing a game. Sexy, teasing. But nearby, in the corner of the room was my bag, ready and waiting.
I undressed him slowly as he licked his lips at the anticipation of what was to come.
I unbuttoned his shirt and threw it on the nearby chair.
It was easy to undo his belt with his gun and handcuffs on it and drape it over a nearby chair.
For once, I was in
Similar Books
Little Book of Fantasies
Miranda Heart
The Warrior
Sharon Sala
Elemental Earth (Paranormal Public)
Maddy Edwards
Catalyst
Viola Grace
Cloak of Darkness
Helen MacInnes
The Miranda Contract
Ben Langdon
Thorn in the Flesh
Anne Brooke
The Hooker: A Reprehensible Acts Story
Simon Wood
Waiting for You
Abigail Strom
Sweetest Taboo
Eva Márquez