Broken

Contents

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 21

CHAPTER 22

CHAPTER 23

CHAPTER 24

CHAPTER 25

CHAPTER 26

CHAPTER 27

CHAPTER 28

CHAPTER 29

CHAPTER 30

CHAPTER 31

CHAPTER 32

CHAPTER 33

CHAPTER 34

CHAPTER 35

CHAPTER 36

CHAPTER 37

The reason for my story is to reach victims all over the world in hope of inspiring you to come forward and bring to justice more sex offenders as I did. That first step is the most crucial in any kind of recovery and is extremely difficult. We all know that any kind of abuse is very traumatic for every victim, and what I have found, is that every victim’s reaction is completely different yet not all accepted by society as they claim. Victims are not always women as most people think. Violators, rapists and sexual offenders are given many chances to re-do their lives and pick up where they left off when they get out of jail if they ever spend a day in jail. But us victims, forever live in a dark gloomy world, full of suspicious people and find it very hard to continue with our normal lives ever again. We live a life sentence of depression, guilt, shame and fear because of our attackers, and that is not the way it should be. Our system should be able to understand, guild and help us to a life time of therapy paid for by our government and/or the offender for changing our entire life as well as our loved once. We are left with distorted minds for the way they treated us. Our system should realize that just as every case is different, so is our response to our traumatic experience and to the therapy received, if any. Unfortunately, some victims turn to drugs, alcohol, lose or gain weight, depression or even suicide, leaving children, families and friends behind. Others turn to prostitution or just having multiple sexual partners’. Others turn to same sex partners for fear of the opposite sexual partner hurting them too. And others give up having a social, sexual, or spiritual life all together. Some victims live hating men for the rest of their lives, blaming the rest of the world for their anger and when they totally loose control and snap, they forget why they had so much anger built up inside. Many victims have hurt, tortured and killed men in acts of passion, anger and/or revenge. And the punishment these victims receive, is much harsher than the one there attackers received for distorting their lives! We inmates are rarely treated with respect or dignity yet expected to forgive and defiantly forget what was done to us.

The Police officer’s were on the prowl for a drunken woman to come out of the bar to take advantage of her. I ended up being that woman, only I wasn’t drunk, but they still found a way to violate me. They took advantage of their badges, their guns, their authority and worse of all, me! What puzzled them was how I had concealed enough evidence and or witnesses to bring them to justice?

I want to dedicate this book to my only daughter

Adriana whom I’ve loved too much

She’s the only one that’s been there for me and with me

When no one else was. Thank you baby

This book is for you.

The ones whom invaded in Body,

My Mind, my Spirit and My Entire World.

My name is not important, but the reason for this story is.

I’m sure that some women out there can relate to what I am about to share on.

I was humiliated and laughed at by a couple of buddies that decided they would violate me on a dark lonely road.

I didn’t do anything sexually to her! I was just following orders! One of them claimed!

The other one, had an extremely difficult time remembering which one of all the girls he had done this to, I was.

CHAPTER 1

I use to be a happy go lucky girl, even at the age of thirty-five. This was my age at time of this incident as they addressed it. I always thought of myself as a girl, not a woman. Always felt so young, pretty and so full of life. I had a lot of spunk, and my energy level was endless. I overcame any obstacles that came my way; in fact it was quite interesting to conquer new challenges in my daily life. I felt so proud of myself for not having to rely on anybody for to help raise my daughter. I was on top of the world along with my little girl, been a great provider for her, just as I had promised the day I left her father. Being a single mother was so much fun to me I couldn’t imagine why some women complained about the children.

Though my daughter was still too little to remember when we left her dad. I made sure to give her plenty of love for both of us. Worked as much overtime as I possible could to give her what she needed, wanted and more. I felt so confident and tough enough to handle any situation that came my way. Why not, I thought, after all, I had fought with both boys and girls before, in school while trying to fit in. So of course I could handle myself from any jerk that might want to hurt me. I had lots of friends not enemies. Not giving it much thought, I knew I was loved by the people I considered my friends.

Everyone I knew, that were over the age of twenty-five were too serious and so angry. Too grumpy, tired and constantly complaining about bills, their spouse, the car, not enough money but mostly, the children. So I knew I was lucky to have what I thought was a blessed life, again. I enjoyed my daughter so much, taking her to kids birthday party’s, eat at fancy restaurants (which we both love), movies, carnivals, the park, swimming, the library and everywhere she wanted to go. So I refused to live my life as though it was going to be over soon. Besides, I deserved to have a little fun too and treated myself to partying, since I worked so hard to support us both. I even worked when I was married so I didn’t know how to depend on anyone but me. I had always been the life of the party and my favorite thing to do was to make new friends where ever I was at, with friends, at family gatherings and/or the local bar or clubs.

It wasn’t always a walk in the park but it was fun and I always came through. At times I even came to believe that my sisters were a little jealous of me since they were all married and were tied down to a husband and had more children than I. And I was a single mother with only one gorgeous well-behaved daughter, and loving it.

Against my family’s advice, I’d still go out on weekends and unfortunately, this behavior eventually turned into my using and abusing drugs at one point. But through all this, I managed to still care for my daughter and attend all of her daycare and school functions.

To understand my story I would have to tell you a little bit about my Family, Friends and my Past.

CHAPTER 2

My parents met, dated and married in Juarez Mexico in the mid 1960’s. They immediately moved to New Mexico where my father had been employed for a few years before their wedding. My mother tells her sad story of how she missed her mom, dad and siblings and her entire world as she now felt so alone in that house by herself all day long. My Father worked six days a week, twelve hour shifts on a Diary farm. The owners had small apartments for his employees and their families to live in around the ranch. But my mother felt isolated, lonely and very bored with nothing to see but cows and hay for miles to her surroundings. She loved my father so much that she never complained to him. But my father knew that there was more to life than this and wanted to spend more time with her and be happy. They both felt they were missing out on something and wanted to go find it.

So they made the decision to move to Chicago Ill where his family lived and there were more than enough jobs up north. My father began working a few days after they arrived and my mother befriended a great neighbor whom was also a newly wed, and they became real good friends. They had a very unique and interesting kind of friendship, my mother struggled to learn the English language and her new friend did not know Spanish at all. So they made a pact to teach each other the other’s language and a beautiful sisterhood was born between them. A few years into there marriage, my mother was finally pregnant with my oldest sister and felt so blessed, they just kept having more. Even though they had five little girls, I think my mother kind of hoped for a boy too. But my father loved God so much, that he strongly believed he had a plan for everyone and was always very proud of us all. My mom’s friend had as many children as she did and were inseparable as well.

As we grew up and started school, my father enrolled us all in one of the best Catholic School in Chicago, he thought It‘d best for the entire family, since he wanted the best for us and we were very involved in our catholic community. Like most Hispanic families, my parents’ hopes and dreams of giving their children the best education and upbringing was of high priority. My mom was a homemaker and took her role very seriously; she cooked, cleaned and was a great role model. She cooked at our Church’s Convent for the entire parish of Nuns and Priests. She managed to volunteer on a regular basis, and still take us to the park after dinner.

At school, the Nuns taught us good manners, discipline and to love and respect one another. I tagged along with my mom to the convent, while she prepared their supper and attended the many different activities with the nuns that were being held that day. The Rosary, Prayers, Bible studies or just have conversations with the Nuns. I enjoyed their stories and the way they all got along. It was a remarkable sisterhood, I never saw them arguing or disagreeing with each other. They would also do their sewing and ironing and cleaning like everyone else. But they smiled as they did their choirs and swept the floors. It made you want to join their way of living. They had a permanent smile on their face as they sang Christian hymns and worship songs and I loved the feel of peace and love that was felt in the convent. I always wanted to be around