October 15th, 2019

I was three years old. This has been my life ever since. Always labeled a slut, undesirable, and less than human.
The first time I heard the word "slut" I thought it was good, because the man said to my mother, "She is a beautiful little slut." But soon I was to learn that this is not good to be. My horror starts here. I had always wondered where it was my sister would go when this man who smelled like cigar came and put her in his car and brought her back with tears that had dried onto her cheeks. She would always tell me to hide when the car would come up the dirt path. On March 11, 1973 I found out where she went and what had cause her tears. On this day, two cars came. One for my sister and one for me. I remember this man got out of the car and went to my mother. She gave him something and then they both looked at me. I turned away to watch the car that held my sister drive back down the path. No words were said when the man walked towards me and took my hand. I looked at the place that my mother once stood, but she was gone. We walked to the car. He picked me up opened the door and put me inside the car. When he got inside the car he looked at me in the mirror and smiled at me then said, "Ah, such a pretty little slut." When the car stopped, the man got out and closed the door. He then came and opened my door, held out his hand for me to take and helped me out of the car. We walked to a building with a door. I saw the car that once held my sister parked close to the one I just got out of. Inside this building a man walked up to us and handed the man a paper. He wrote something on it and I was handed off to the new man. He took me down a long hallway with doors on both sides, all the way down. We stopped at one of the doors and went inside. There was a mat on the floor, a toilet, a sink, and a bathtub. I was three years old. This has been my life ever since. Always labeled a slut, undesirable, and less than human. Four months ago, I escaped his torture and began to try and learn how to live free from abuse. But it is a life I am unfamiliar with. A life that is lonely because I had no friends and a life full of confusion and fear. If there is help for me out there somewhere, it has not found me yet. - Amanii

To the author: If you haven't yet found help, please use these resources at WomensLaw.org. Most cities have programs to help survivors of sexual exploitation lead healthy, happy lives - there is help for you and you will make it through this.