Barbara Amaya - Nobodys Girl: A Memoir of Lost Innocence, Modern Day Slavery & Transformation

Nobodys Girl;

A Memoir of Lost Inocence, Modernday Slavery and Transformation

Copyright 2015 by Barbara Amaya

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system with out the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotable embodied in critical articles and reviews.

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The views expressed in this work are soley those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the view of the publisher, and the publisher here disclaims any responsibility for them.

Book Design by Vanessa Jeschke

Printed in the United States of America

FIRST EDITION MARCH 2015

ISBN 978-0-99125502-3

e-book: ISBN 978-0-99125509-2

NOBODYS GIRL ENDORSEMENTS

Barbara has been sharing her powerful story as a trafficking survivor to groups everywhere and forever changing the hearts and minds of those who listen. I am thankful that this book will give an opportunity to everyone to read her story and forever be changes and challenged. This is a story that needs to be read by all.

Aimee Hong

Director of United Methodist Seminar Program

The General Board of Church and Society, United Methodist Church

In 2014, 1 in 6 endangered runaways reported to the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children was likely a victim of child sex trafficking. Missing children, especially children who have runaway, are at hight-risk for being targeted and recruited by pimps. These children deserve and require our ever effort to employ and coordinate all resources to recover them as quickly as possible.

National Center for Missing and Exploited Children

Barbara Amaya has a powerful story to tell, as a survivor of human trafficking she feels a responsibility to empower other with her story of overcoming adversity.

Holly Smith

Survivor advocate author of Walking Prey

Human Trafficking is actually a Human Tragedy, it is the responsibility of those who triumphed over this tragedy to till the soil, water the soil, shine our light on the soil and watch Gods garden of overcomers grow strong roots and thrive! Barbara Amaya fulfills this responsibility in her book Nobodys Girl.

Marian Hatch

Project Manager Human Trafficking Coordinator, Cook County Sheriffs Office

Barbara Amayas story is both terrifying and inspiring, and all too prevalent. Her story, her words matter to the world and should be heard by the many to educate, enlighten and make change.

Christine Stark

Author or Nickels: A Tale of Disassociation

For Jaedyn

CONTENTS

AUTHORS NOTE

In this book, I share stories I have kept hidden for decades.

All of us have stories. In most cases, we allow the world to see but a fraction of who we really are, like an ancient artifact whose tip, pushing up out of the dirt, feels the sun, but whose body lies deep beneath the surface. Its a rare thing to share our most private moments, biggest mistakes, and innermost demons for friends and strangers alike to judge and pull apart.

To those who may question why I chose to write this book now, and how I could share such deeply traumatic, painful, even horrific experiences, here is my response: How could I not? Breaking my silence is a political statement for me, one of choosing to never again be a voiceless victim. It is a deliberate choice to take my life back and to help others do the same for themselves.

I have done my very best to express my thoughts and feelings as accurately as possible, and to do the same when talking about people, places, and events. I cannot remember the exact words of conversations held long ago, but I do have experience with how Moses and my family talked and acted and with how I have interacted with them and other people over the years. I have reconstructed scenes and conversations from my memories; they accurately describe how I thought, felt, and behaved.

Memory is imperfect, and there might well be passages in which I have mixed up people or chronologies. In most cases, Ive used real names, but where I did not want to embarrass someone or where I cannot remember someones name, I have used a pseudonym.

I hope all the people who appear in my book feel good about my treatment of them, or at least feel that I was fair and honest. I have thought very hard about my portrayals of everyone, and I have tried to treat the tougher scenes with sensitivity, honesty, and compassion.

Above all, I hope this book gives an understanding of what happens to young victims of human trafficking. What I went through years ago is exactly what victims are experiencing today. Nothing has changed in terms of recruitment methods, exploitation, abuse, and manipulation. The most vulnerable are often the most preyed upon, something that makes human trafficking so very evil.

Trafficking has always been about supply and demand. Until we as a society address what we are teaching our young men about how they should view and what they should expect from women, nothing will change. There will be predators and human traffickers waiting to meet the demandand there will be victims.

Few people journey to hell and live to tell about it. I believe I was spared because I had a purpose to fulfill. I also believe that everyone, no matter the trauma and horror they have experienced in life, can be transformed and begin to live their own true destinies.

My life is much more than my story, but my story is still part of me. I want to use it to help others transform their lives as well.

PROLOGUE

I stood on the cement sidewalk for a moment, holding my arms tightly across my chest to warm myself. The cool night air confused me. I couldnt understand what I was doing outside the warm bed where Id fallen asleep. What time was it? I had to go to school in the morning.

I shivered in my pink flowered nightgown. It was quiet and dark, and all I could hear were the crickets making small noises, their chirps echoing off the neighbors houses and back to me. The moonlight shone down over the grass in our front yard, lighting up the drops of water on each blade of grass and making them twinkle.

I turned and walked the few steps back to my dark home. As I went inside and made my way through the quiet living room, I felt a sudden relief as I heard my spaniel dogs nails click on the hardwood floors. Honey whined softly at me, and together we padded down the hall to my bedroom.

I opened the door to my room. Everything looked so peaceful. My lavender bedspread was crumpled on my bed, and sitting on top of my bedspread were my stuffed animals, just where Id left themlined up beside the pillow at the head of my bed and all the way around the edges, where they formed a soft, safe barrier for me to hide behind. My favorite fluffy brown bear stared back at me, his friendly black eyes seeming to say, Coast is clear! Make a run for it! Honey looked up at me from the floor and slowly wagged her black tail. She seemed to want me to come to bed as well.

I ran as fast as I could across the cold floor and jumped into bed, pulling the covers up over my feet. My heart was beating so quickly that it felt like it would pop out of my nightgown. I peeped out from under my soft blanket. Honey looked up at me from her bed on the floor, and I smiled. No one was hiding under my bed, waiting to grab my feet. I knew that, of course. But still