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Kara, Relocated and Afraid
Kara, Relocated and Afraid
Kara, Relocated and Afraid
Ebook58 pages55 minutes

Kara, Relocated and Afraid

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Kara has a scary past. Being a refugee from a dangerous place, and then sold into the sex trade industry. Kara now a teenager, is faced with the need to share her story. Can her friends help her heal? Can she even tell them? What will happen as her story is revealed?

LanguageEnglish
Release dateMay 24, 2012
ISBN9781476023144
Kara, Relocated and Afraid
Author

Rene Lathrop-Nethercot

Wife, Mother, Student, Friend, and writer Rene Lathrop is known for her full character development and her inspiration is people. How they react to hard situations. How they relate to one another.

Read more from Rene Lathrop Nethercot

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    Kara, Relocated and Afraid - Rene Lathrop-Nethercot

    Kara, Relocated and Afraid

    Copyright © 2012 Rene Lathrop

    Smashwords Edition

    By Rene Lathrop-Nethercot

    Lathrop-Nethercot Publishing

    PO box 912 Derby, Ks

    This is a work of original fiction. Any correlation with real events or people is coincidental and should be treated as such.

    Chapter 1

    As I sat in the room with all these girls, these rape survivors, I thought to myself of how lucky they were to have lived through such horrible tragedies in their lives. Their lives were changed so drastically in just a few weeks’ time. These girls were strong and powerful. I was especially drawn to Dawn. To know that someone else had held her life in his hands, and she was able to beat him off was amazing. The meetings empowered me to look at my own life with less terror.

    I listened once again as the girls went around the room introducing themselves. This was their third meeting and already they had grown in numbers. More than thirty girls were here now. I busied myself doodling on the notepad in front of me. I brought it as my cover to make them think I was just doing my job as a journalist for the school paper. In actuality, there was so much more.

    Today, girls, I want us to start on a positive note, Dawn said, I want to understand what you all do to help yourselves feel better when you're down. Being a survivor almost feels like being bipolar at times because something so small can trigger a memory that hurts.

    Several of the girls raised their hands, Dawn asked a girl toward the back of the class to tell hers. My name is Claire, for those of you who don't know me. I would say that's most of you. I'm not good with people really, and I don't usually like talking in front of anyone, Her hands shook a little which proved her point. One thing I do when I get scared, is I try to focus on a happy memory with my dad to drive out the bad one. It works sometimes. Sometimes it doesn't.

    It would be hard, Dawn said, To have your attacker be someone you love, especially a parent. I can't even imagine what they would be like, Claire.

    I could. As a matter of fact, I could imagine in quite vividly in full color and detail. I thought to myself.

    Thinking of something positive really helps, who else has any ideas? A few girls yelled out suggestions like Take a bath to relax. Carlie suggested exercise.

    Those are all great options. Another way to deal with what we face in just making it through the day is to talk about it. Does anyone feel like sharing today?

    She waited a few minutes and no one said anything. Her eyes swept back and forth across the room giving people ample time to decide if they had something. I do. I thought, but it was too awful. All of these girls had been through something horrifying, but I just don't quite believe yet that they can handle my awful. I thought back to when I came to America. I was six years old.

    I was in a cargo container on a ship. I was tucked safely next to my mom. I remember being very thirsty and tired. We were coming from Darfur and Mom said this would be a much safer place for us to live. We were going to be Political refugees. Mom gave every penny she had to a man just to get us into the country. I was excited to be safe. We had been on the ship for seven days, and some were beginning to say that no one was coming to let us out. I became very scared. I held Mom's hand, but she wasn't holding mine anymore. She wouldn't hold mine again.

    The white man opened the door. He looked inside at us. Seeing Mom he yelled to the other man, We've got a dead one in here. They tried to take Mom away. I became distraught, grabbing the man’s hands and trying to get them off of my mother. He wasn’t going to take her. I held on tight. Although I had seen much death in my short lifetime, seeing Mom’s lifeless body was far worse. Throwing me to the ground the second man put mother’s body over his shoulder.

    The white man said I owed a debt. He bent over me as I lay on the ground sobbing for my mother. I

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