Kidnapped

November 20, 2011

Every Reason To Hate

Estimated read time: 15 minutes (based upon true events)

Kidnapped

Part 1

“Come on! Those guys want to talk to us,” Julie exclaims as she skips over to a black sedan that’s pulled up alongside the curb. I approach cautiously with a dubious expression on my face, stopping just behind the vehicle. Julie leans into the window, and after a few chuckles, heads my way again. “It’s OK, I know these guys. They’re some friends of mine,” she assures me. “They said they’ll give us a ride, so we don’t have to take that nasty city bus.” She grabs my hand and pulls me along to the car. “Get in,” she beams as she climbs onto the lap of a man in the front seat.

“Well, aren’t you going to at least introduce me first?” I ask curiously, then rub my nose as I notice the unmistakable stench of drugs seeping out through the window.

“Oh, yeah. Umm… What’s your names again?” she giggles as the man laughs and slaps her thigh in response. Just then the back door opens and I see two more men who nod at me from the shadows within.

“Uh, ahh… No thanks guys. Hey, Julie, I’m just going to take the bus, alright?” But as I turn to leave, I am suddenly grabbed from behind and a hand clamps down over my mouth so hard my lip is cut. I am thrust onto the floor of the vehicle, the soles of boots pushing down upon me with the weight of their owner from above. Then a sneaker is pressed into the back of my neck, forcing my face deep into the rough carpet. Its owner leans down, grabbing a handful of my hair and whispers hoarsely, “If you make a f**king sound, it’ll be the last one you ever make. You got me?” I can taste the blood from my lip as I struggle to breathe and try to nod in response. Suddenly, my kidneys feel the sharp pain of reinforcement from the other man, “Yeah! Don’t even think about it girl.”

I close my eyes tight, trying to make sense of what’s happening. To my surprise, I can hear Julie up front giggling once more and talking to these guys. What the hell? Is this some kind of sick joke? She is my seventeen year old foster-sister and I’m barely fourteen. This is the first time I’ve ever been allowed to come to the city, because she promised to watch after me. Surely she cares enough about me not to let me get hurt?

KIDNAPPED! I hear the tires screech and, as the engine accelerates, I can feel the vibrations through the floor board. I begin to panic, realizing I can’t let them take me like this, but no sooner did I begin to put up a fight than I felt the swift kick to my head. Everything went black. Everything was quiet.

Soft moans and mumbles trail from my lips as I feel myself trying to wake up from a horrible dream. My body hurts and my head is pounding. I hear music and voices. There’s that wretched smell and giggling again. Then it all comes back to me, and I realize this is no dream, but a very real nightmare.

“Well, hello sleeping beauty. Hey, you guys she’s awake!” an excited voice yells from close by. My eyes are still adjusting to the candle light as I try to focus on the figure behind the seemingly young voice. I can tell he is very tall and muscular. But he can’t be any older than me, a mere child himself, I think. I try to roll off my side, but discover my hands and feet are tied. Taking in my surroundings, I realize there isn’t much to see. I am in an empty room laying on the filthy, barely there, carpet which smells like urine. I can make out a broken window to the side of me and shiver as the chilled air breezes in. The walls seem to be crumbling all around us.

Three very muscular African-American men, enter the room, carrying all the terror of my nightmare with them. I am frozen in fear, eyes wide, and in shock.

Perhaps they have mistaken my complete silence as willing cooperation, because two of them begin to untie me. I can’t comprehend what they are carrying on about with their drinks, cigarettes and who knows what kind of drugs. My mind begins to race and all I can think is, I have to get out. I have to fight this, whatever “this” is, and I have to survive these men somehow.

The youngest one approaches first, trying to kiss me. I bite his lip, not realizing the fury of hell that would soon rain down upon me. “You b*tch!” he yells, and his hand connects sharply with my face. I hear the other men laughing as the boy actually turns to his father and pleads for help. “Be a man, son, and take that b*tch now! Teach her a lesson, boy!” With such encouragement and a newfound confidence, the boy lunges at me. But I am determined to fight, and so it begins.

Kidnapped

Part 2

It must have been a turn-on for these men, as my hate and fury had become the life of the party, and they were enjoying the entertainment. Until it seemed the boy’s energy was wearing thinner than mine. I would fight for my life and my innocence until I had no fight left in me. The fear of what might happen had given way to a certainty that hardened into rage and set my blood to boiling. It fueled a fiery furnace of my own that they’d have to quench before they could make me submit to their violence and lust.

And so they did – all of them – for the next 72 hours.

Finally, dear ole daddy decided to help his son. He and his friends held me down spread-eagle so the youngest could rape me first. One of the men produced a switch blade, and they taunted and teased as they cut and tore my clothing away. They were none too careful and sliced through to my skin in various places leaving a wet, sticky sensation where my blood trailed. My screams of anguish and pleads for mercy fell upon deaf ears and were of no comfort to anyone, including myself.

Someone tried to hold my head steady to kiss me again and I spit in his face. An extreme surge of pain shot through my body as his wounded ego goaded him to crudely grab a breast in each hand, squeezing and twisting without mercy. I stopped fighting at that. The tears gushed down my face while another man shoved something into my mouth to shut me up.

Why God? Where in the hell are you? I cursed him in my thoughts, eyes clamped shut, trying to block out all the horror surrounding me.

Another man was taking his turn with me as lust and anger filled his eyes and greed took all it wanted. Pure evil relentlessly pounded into my very being, ravaging my soul. I realized none of them were using a condom, and that’s when I began to pray for death instead of Gods rescue.

Kidnapped

Part 3

It has been hours and my body is once again my own as I lay limp and broken. I pull the gag out and realize with complete disgust it is my own panties. I suppose I should be grateful they are not anyone else’s. Someone drags me to my feet, and with head down, defeated, I shuffle out of the room. I realize we are in an abandoned house and all the windows and doors have been shattered. Some had boards randomly nailed across them in a weak attempt at security. I cringe at the roaches and other creepy crawlys that scuttle across my path, even as I envy their freedom.

I come to a hallway, where I find Julie, my wonderful foster-sister, naked and straddling the eldest man as he lies on the floor. She stops riding him long enough to look up at me, the corners of her mouth slowly rising into a smile. She was here the whole time? She must have heard everything! I thought, as I felt the sick weight in my stomach growing larger. Suddenly I want to vomit.

My escort pushes me further ahead to a bathroom with a broken toilet, no water and rusty pipes stemming up from the floor where the sink used to be. The man stands guard, instructing me to use it. “And clean yourself up some with that, would ya?” He nods to a half-empty water bottle and a pile of napkins tucked into a corner. “Jeez, you look like sh*t.” It was a ridiculous accusation, as if it was somehow my fault and I’d chosen this look to make a fashion statement. He keeps watch over me, standing tall and menacing in his nakedness, while stealing the occasional jealous glance at his friend with the obviously willing partner.  A rat scurries across my path as I sit huddled on the toilet, broken and silent, sobs stream down my face. I can’t help but wonder how many of these men Julie was willingly having sex with while they all took turns raping me throughout the night. It seems to be one big love fest for everyone else.

My hands and feet are bound once again and I am left alone at last, back in my room. Where are you God? I question as I feel the anger building from deep inside. How could you let this happen to me? I accuse. Why aren’t you protecting me?

My thoughts slowly began to shift, as I recognize an opportunity to escape. Well, there’s obviously no need to wait around for Julie, I muse with contempt. Some foster-sister she turned out to be! I feel the multitude of bruises that threaten to completely engulf me as I inch my way toward the hole in the wall passing for a window. Dawn is on the horizon, and I hope to be found or heard with the coming of daylight. As I rise to my knees and peer out the opening, I realize I am on the second story. I can still jump, I think confidently.

I turn around, backing up to the window with hope that one of the sharp pieces of glass might allow me to free my hands. I rub them along a jagged piece protruding from the remainder of the frame.

“Ouch! SON OF A…!”” the pain is intense and I feel the immediate trail of warmth I had become accustomed to during the night, as blood trickled down my palm. I quickly look around and silence myself, not daring to even breathe. I have no idea where the others are, but I can still hear their voices, although faint and off in the distance now.

I keep working at it and finally my hands are free! I find yet another shard of glass that I use to free my ankles. I am still naked and try to piece together enough of my shredded garments to make a decent cover, but it is no use. At least I manage to tie a piece of cloth around my hand and wrist to stop the bleeding. I suppose modesty is no longer an issue anyway, I think with bitter amusement.

Without hesitation, I grab the window ledge, placing my weight on it in order to gauge my landing down below, but with a sudden crack I feel it give way and the rotting wall crumbles underneath me.

“Whoa, little lady. Where do you think you’re going?” he teases, chuckling.

Strong arms encircle my waist, pulling me further from freedom once again. With all the anger and hate that has been festering inside of me, I bawl up my fists above my head, and bring them down with all the strength I have. I break his grip and turn on him with pure venom.

“What the hell?” he yells in surprise.

I elbow his temple, and as he raises his hands in protection, I kick him in the kidney. Then I run for my life.

The first beams of sunlight begin to penetrate the slats covering the windows of the house. My thoughts are racing. Light. I have to head for the light and get out of here!

A THUMP from behind me, andI swing around, indistinctively raising my knee to connect with his groin. He doubles over and I flee through the kitchen. A door that leads to the deck is boarded up, so I round a corner into the hallway. A flight of stairs!

I begin my descent when I feel a strong blow in the center of my back. I pitch forward, head over heels, bouncing down stairs like a rubber ball, until I finally land motionless at the bottom. As I struggle to open my eyes, men are invading my sight one at a time. I hear nothing. They don’t speak.

Fueled by the fire and fear once more, I am not giving up! I hear a woman’s voice now, shrieking and echoing off the walls. It is mine.

I am silenced once again, restrained by all four men, and carried back to my room. They are shouting at each other, but I am not listening. They’re going to kill me, I think. I am going to die. Emptiness washes over me now as I curse God himself. Suddenly, I feel a stab in my arm and I slip into darkness.

This second day and night will prove to be a test I wouldn’t wish upon my worst enemy. I awake, head throbbing, and feel separated from my body, the pain somehow distant. Something in the air is stinging my eyes, making them water, and my mouth feels like cotton. I can’t wet my lips, because I have been gagged once again. I lift my head and realize I’m standing, but not on my own. I try to move my limbs, to connect with something, anything. My neck seems too frail to hold up the weight of my head as I struggle against the thick fog swirling between my ears…

“Here you go angel.” I feel something poke my arm again. Everything quickly begins to slip away. No, wait! I plead. Wait! And my reality is lost once again as I fall back into the darkness.

Kidnapped

Part 4

It is so cold and I hear… music? No. Voices? Do I hear… chanting? No, just let me go back to sleep.

SPLASH! I am drenched with cold water and my eyes fly wide open as my sputtering cries fill the room. Clarity is trying to filter through the muddiness in my head. The tears stream down my face as I discover I am hanging from a beam, my arms above my head. Now I KNOW there is no God… Someone is licking the salt water, spreading it further into my cuts and I cringe. He’s insane, I think, all of them are absolutely insane. My entire body feels like one big wound. Drugs… they’ve been drugging me and I wish they’d give me more, anything to drown out this pain. My legs are weak and I waver between trying to hold myself up and collapsing to hang freely from the rafter above. Where is Julie and where did all this stuff come from? As if reading my mind, the oldest man approaches slowly, carrying a candle.

“You know, you weren’t very nice to one of my guys this morning,” he slithers closer. “Little girls who misbehave have to be punished, don’t they boys?” All of them are standing around me now and, as if on cue, they began chanting again. Panic rises inside me. I choke on my sobs, and it is nearly impossible to breathe. I am suffocated by despair.

The leader raises the candle above his head and yells something in a different language. Then yanking a handful of my hair, he forces my head back, and lets the molten wax drip down my naked center. It sears my tender flesh. Then the wax from another candle… and another… and another.

At last, it is quiet and my tears finally stop. I can not cry any more. Pain transcends itself after a while and, you just go numb. For the first time I notice a red circle that has been drawn around me. Inside it is a star and I am in the center of it. Candles are everywhere and it seems I am in a basement with musty, wet walls and a cement floor. I must be shivering, because I can hear my handcuffs rattling above me. This is some type of ritualistic séance or satanic cult.

Boy, I thought, I really pissed them off. I wish they’d just kill me and be done with it. I can’t take anymore of this! The hardened wax pulls and tugs against my skin when I move. It cracks, sending fresh blood to ooze from my gaping wounds. They slit the throat of a black cat, drinking the blood and it runs down their chins. They’re worse than wild beasts, I think. They smear blood all over me, like a mad artist painting his canvas. Dead crows lay on the points of the star which still encircles me.

I lose track of time. Nightfall comes once again and rolls into another day while I am whipped, tortured, sodomized and raped repeatedly by all four men. The threats to end my life never stop and I slip in and out of consciousness. And then a random thought. Is this what it was like for you, Jesus?  Then, I think nothing else and I feel nothing more. Somehow, I just turn it all off and my world becomes silent and empty.

Kidnapped

Part 5

I feel the familiar vibrations under me and every little bump feels like I am crashing down onto a sharp boulder. Something is covering my eyes and I am laying on the floor of the sedan again. After some time the vehicle stops, and a hot whisper burns in my ear, “Remember my little slut, if you ever tell anyone about any of this, we will hunt you down and some poor, sweet little girl. We will make you watch as we feast off her sweet innocence and make you get drunk off her blood. Then I will kill you. Do you believe me?”

I manage a small nod, trembling at the thought. I did believe it to my very core. “Good. You just remember that, angel,” and he licks my ear. A door opens. “Don’t fight me,” he says flatly, as he gathers me in his arms and steps outside. He carries me a short distance and sets me on the ground. “Now, sit here and count to 100 before you take this blind fold off, understand? ” Again, I manage a small nod. Then he pecks me on the cheek like a parent kissing their child as they send them off to school, and I hear him walk away. I can hardly believe it as I hear a door close and the car drives away. Just like that.

Is this really over? I realize I have been holding my breath as I half expect to hear a BANG that will end this part of my nightmare, and my life forever. I do not count, but I stay there too paralyzed to move or feel anything yet, too scared to think or hope for a very, very long time. Then, slowly, I slide my blindfold down and simply sob.

Kidnapped

Part 6

A man’s voice, “Hey, are you alright miss?”

Startled, I throw myself backwards into the wall, shuddering from the touch of his hand on my shoulder.

“It’s ok! I’m sorry. I’m not going to hurt you,” he says nervously. He takes another step towards me and I scurry back once more. His stops and his eyes scan me, trying to absorb what he sees huddled, bloody and bruised before him. “Oh, my God. You’re not ok, are you, miss?” his voice sounds kind and concerned. “I’m calling for help,” he assures me, removing a cell phone from his back pocket.  “You’re going to be ok, I promise.”

Through my swollen eyelids he appears to be talking on the phone, still watching me. Overwhelmed and beyond exhaustion, I sense him reaching for me again, as the world slowly goes black once more and his voice fades off into the distance. I am not afraid this time. Somehow, I know that I am finally safe.

Author’s Note:

I would later find out that Julie had returned to our foster home, claiming that I took off to go to some party with a car full of guys and she tried to stop me, but I wouldn’t listen. My foster parents never even looked for me or reported me missing. Understand that I had been a straight A student and never into any real trouble up to this point in my life. I had only recently been placed in foster-care, because the state revoked my mom and dads parental rights for many reasons.

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49 Comments on “Kidnapped”

  1. First Night Design Says:

    Oh boy, this stopped me in my tracks. Very powerful writing, made more powerful by the fact that it’s based on true events in your life. Thank you for sharing. (Arrived via OM)

    Reply

  2. johncoyote Says:

    The story is needed to be read. People are blind to the bad actions of some people. You are a brave woman and your words could save another person life. Thank you.

    Reply

  3. Emily Rose Lewis Says:

    Wow, I thought I was being transparent and brave just to finally publically acknowledge that I have been abused and arrested with little to no details. You are a good writer. Heart-wrenching story.

    Reply

  4. Die Trying Says:

    Hello Jessie, I read your blog posts a few days ago, after you visited me which led me to you. I have not been able to respond with a comment until today, touched so much by your stories. I have made a new post dedicated to you on my blog in an effort to say…I feel your pain this side of the world and you have my prayers, strength and online love:) I have also nominated you for the Imagine Award as you have led to a few days of deep thought and imagination through your blog. Lots of care from me:) http://dietrying999.wordpress.com/2014/01/05/dear-jessie/

    Reply

    • Jessie Jeanine Says:

      My friend… I can not tell you what you have done for me… Like you, I need to let it sink in a bit so hopefully I can articulate what’s going on inside of me, because I am at a loss for words. You have given me a reason to keep going and reminded me of what this is all about. From one sister to another, I love you and cannot thank you enough! Please watch for my response in another post :) ♥¸.•*¨*•♥ HUGS ♥•*¨*•.¸¸♥

      Reply

      • Die Trying Says:

        Yes, it took me by surprise and I thought the only way to absorb it is to write about it:) So pleased to have met you Jessie. Will stay in touch and if I knew how to make those hearts I would send you one but I’m sending it anyway lol:):) xxx

        Reply

        • Jessie Jeanine Says:

          Well, thank you for taking the time to read it. As far as the hearts go, just ‘copy and paste’ (no special code required!) The pleasure is all mine and I hope to see more of you in the future :) HUGS!

          Reply

  5. secretangel Says:

    Wow… You are a mighty warrior for the Lord!! I see you as a high ranking officer in the Army of the Lord, leading the battle against abuse and reaching out to help others who have suffered similar abuses and traumas. My heart goes out to you!! Your stories are heart-breaking but totally amazing that you not only survived but overcame to reach out to others with faith, hope, and love…

    You are a strong woman of faith… the enemy can not touch you. You have overcome the worst that the enemy can dish out and have risen above it… I see you on a white horse, with your Armor of God, and leading this battle that many of us are being called to. No assignment of the enemy can prosper against you. Jessie, God has huge plans for you my friend… I pray for God to pour out His blessing onto you,

    Reply

  6. Lucas J. Draeger Says:

    You must be one of the bravest humans in the world – first, to continue living after such a terrifying experience, and second to be willing to share that experience. I am awestruck by your strength and character. To find the light of hope beyond the sick fog of evil – I believe it must be the greatest miracle any of us could ever know.
    Blessings, dear lady.

    Reply

    • Jessie Jeanine Says:

      I wouldn’t hardly say, “one of the bravest human in the world” by any means! Although, I do appreciate the sentiment :) We each have a story to tell and there are many worse than mine and too many who don’t make it to be able to tell it. For that, I am grateful and will continue to talk about it as long as people want to listen or can be helped. It’s good to meet you and thanks for taking the time to read this.

      Reply

  7. spiritministries Says:

    Blessings,

    I was just expounding on the previous comment about the fire. I know the majority would bottle an experience like this up because of shame. They would suffer rather than reach out for something greater.

    You are an overcomer, a conqueror in the name of Jesus Christ, and you have taken your experience to help all humanity. Like the word says in 1 Corinthians 13:13-There are three things that will endure; faith, hope, and love(CHARITY)-and the greatest of these is love.

    I hope that helps you out, it is a good thing for I truly admire what you are doing for the love of God.

    Blessings,

    Reply

    • Jessie Jeanine Says:

      Spiritministries,
      I understand and thank you for explaining. It came through as a comment on its own rather than a reply to anything specific, so I wasn’t sure. Blessings to you as well and I greatly appreciate all your support and encouragement.
      In Christ, Jessie

      Reply

  8. ghetto333 Says:

    Reblogged this on Ghettos Corner.

    Reply

  9. ghetto333 Says:

    Jessie I wish I could have been there to help you! I know I’m not supposed to have anger, but I would have hurt them!!!!! Jesus is my King and sometimes things are hard to figure out? You came accross Pure Evil! I’m so sorry for what you had to endure!!! It hardens my heart to here this and I would have killed the fools for this!!!! Your a fighter and I can see this! God Bless You….Timmy aka Ghetto

    Reply

    • Jessie Jeanine Says:

      My friend… believe me when I say I carried righteous anger like that for many years. But, even righteous anger (which I believe is OK) can kill from the inside out, threatening to eat you alive. I had to learn to forgive them so my feelings wouldn’t have control anymore – so the kidnappers wouldn’t have control over me anymore.

      I appreciate your protective instincts so much! Thing of it is, this probably isn’t the worst thing I’ve lived through either. It was just the easiest ‘chapter of my life’ to start with for some reason.

      Please allow your heart to soften again knowing God is able to use the worst Satan can throw at us for His Glory instead. It is because I survived it that I can help others survive too, and if it weren’t for my stories I wouldn’t be meeting all the incredible people that I am today (like yourself!)

      Be well my friend and many blessings to you.

      Reply

  10. Author of Christian Comfort & Conversation Says:

    Jessie, you walking miracle. Often times we look at the bad and turn our hearts to be hard and cold hearted. Reading this inspires me because God’s love is so profound here. He was with you the whole time. You endured so much but now you have a voice, more importantly you have experienced abuse first hand and can know the pain of others who are going through what you endured.

    You are their voice when they don’t have the strength or heart to speak out. Like an advocate for them like God is to you. I love you for your courageousness to step out and share your story and not live in shame. The devil did not win! God’s glory is all over you. Blessings to you.

    Reply

    • Jessie Jeanine Says:

      My apologies for taking awhile to reply to your comment my friend. Sometimes, I just feel so humbled I really don’t know how to respond. I appreciate what you said here so much and it encourages me a great deal to continue down this path that’s been layed open to me. After a life of such ugliness, it is more than a blessing to receive such wonderful support. God be with you and my warmest thank you for your kindness.

      Reply

  11. A. C. Baker Says:

    I was just looking for other bloggers that shared the same worldview, so to speak, I was not prepared for what I was about to read. Each of us have our own stories, of course, but some make the rest of us feel shamed at our pettiness.

    Even as I look at what I am writing I see my own profile pic. I almost makes me not want to comment. The above story almost makes my little monkey puppet seem too stupid. But on the other hand, God has allowed certain things to take place in your life, just as He has mine, for a reason, My words and antics reach some with the story of God’s grace, while yours reach others, But what most impresses me is the graciousness you deal with your pain. Your understanding of the true nature behind the crimes you endured help to encourage others to see past the sinner, past the sin, to the soul that God loved so much He would allow His own Son (who went willingly) to endure the cross.

    Honestly, I had a hard time reading the above story. My tendency is to forget the souls controlled by evil and to wish for the opportunity to administer justice. Of course, that just reminds me of how evil I could behave if not for the love of God.

    Thank you for what you are doing. I have 3 girls and a lovely wife.

    Reply

    • Jessie Jeanine Says:

      My new friend… I am so pleased to meet you here and I really appreciate your visit, your compliments and your comment. My apologies that I’ve taken so long to post it, but I’ve needed to be away for a period. What you do with your puppet is pretty neat if you ask me. You are correct that we each have our own experiences and gifts which God uses in different ways to reach different types of people – none is better or worth more than another. It is a pleasure to share His platform with you in trying to reach others with His love for the glory of His Kingdom. And your last paragraph is a beautiful one – thank you. Many blessings to you, your girls and your lovely wife.

      Reply

  12. RVingGirl Says:

    My heart is full. At first I felt such hatred for those men, animals really but then I turned that hatred to where it is meant to be….the devil!
    God’s rich, gentle, soothing love has brought you from the brink of hell and He will NEVER leave you or abandon you. He knew you then too and He DID have His mighty hand upon you as you suffered and cried and was tortured. He saved you for His purpose. He IS glorified in all of this and you are fulfilling His vision for you.
    JESUS Bless you abundantly!!!!!

    Reply

    • Jessie Jeanine Says:

      The devil is right! Hate the sin, but not the sinner!

      I draw strength from your words of encouragement and especially, “He saved you for His purpose.” Those words grabbed my heart and brought tears to my eyes and I appreciate you for them. I’ve even written them down and posted them up as inspiration above my desk now :) Thank you so much for taking the time to read and many blessings to you my new friend!

      Reply

  13. nightshade130 Says:

    What a painful story. I cry as I read it. You have a beautiful soul for all that you’ve been through. Not many can pull out of this pit of devastation and destruction but I know that this story will definitely save many that are in this similar situation. God Bless you for sharing it. I know it must have been hard to put it together. You are definitely in my prayers.

    Reply

    • Jessie Jeanine Says:

      I really appreciate your kind comments and obvious support. It is so good to hear that the message people are getting is about, “sav(ing) many that are in this similar situation.” There are more of us than people realize and the real kicker is, these aren’t the worst of my stories. Believe it or not, they were the easiest for me to get on paper in order to get things started in the right direction. Thank you for taking the time to read through it and allowing yourself to feel some of what it encompasses. Thank you for your prayers as well and many blessings to you.

      Reply

  14. Elaine Says:

    I couldn’t believe that you stil loves God, Have faith in Him, still believe in Him and still willing to share all this painful things you’ve been through. It is actually quite impossible for any anyone when a little failure in life can already take someone’s life. And to write to help and encourage others. You are the best. And I sure know God really loves you. Thanks for letting us know, no matter how bad things gonna be, every clouds always hav a silver lining, and never stop believing in God. God bless you. :) lots of love.

    Reply

    • Jessie Jeanine Says:

      Thank you so much for your kind compliments Elaine ~ you are very sweet :) There was a time when I was younger that I did blame God for everything, but once I began to learn about how much He loves me and about how all bad things (or evil) is from Satan, it was easy to have faith in God and hate the devil. Also, I don’t find it impossible because to have faith or to love is a choice. I might not always feel like loving, forgiving or having faith, but I choose to, because God asks me to. I appreciate so much that (while not everyone may agree) these things (the silver lining) seems to be apparent in my writing. Bless your heart new friend and I hope to see you again! ❤ HUGS

      Reply

  15. Eugene Adkins Says:

    I can say nothing other than my heart breaks to read this. Your willingness to share and overcome is nothing short of amazing.

    Reply

    • Jessie Jeanine Says:

      Thank you so much for your kindness and I appreciate that you’ve taken the time to read it :)

      This is for everyone ~ if your heart is being tugged by reading this (or any of my stories) then I pray and even plead you might read some of my poetry afterwards, only so you can see it’s all OK and your heart can hopefully rest. My faith is intact my friends and the point is for you to see the wonderful blessings that God can create out of such evil. This is all so that hopefully you can see HIS light and know HIS love. ✞ My story is His testimony (as is for all survivors I think.)

      Reply

  16. gethappy Says:

    Incredible story, you should write a book.

    Reply

    • Jessie Jeanine Says:

      Thank you and I am (of sorts!) I have quite a few more stories to come and the most challenging ones I haven’t even added yet. Actually, I’m praying for godly connections and the right opportunities to arise out of all this. I’m so excited about the possibilities! Thanks for reading it.

      Reply

  17. adalamar Says:

    Wow, your story and your strength is incredible. Thank you for sharing your story. And many blessings to you.

    Reply

  18. playfulpixie4 Says:

    Your courage is inspiring. Thank you for sharing your story.

    Reply

  19. Arpita Myles Says:

    Dear Jessie,

    I don’t know what was worse- the trauma you underwent at the hands of those men, or the betrayal by your foster sister. Your strength amazes me. Your faith in God is exemplary. I hope and pray that your relationship with God grows stronger by the day and you see nothing but his generous blessings in the days to come. Your blog is a beautiful way to reach to people who have suffered and through your wonderful writing your are helping many people to feel strong when life has treated them harshly. Keep spreading hope and faith in the hearts of others.

    Love, Arpi

    Reply

    • Jessie Jeanine Says:

      Dearest Apri,

      You have blessed and humbled me so greatly with your beautiful words my friend ~ thank you. I can’t express enough to you (and others) how much your kindness, encouragement and support mean to me ~ it even gives me relief (if that makes any sense.) It’s like, further confirmation of the awesome power of God and how He can bring goodness from evil ~ every time. Helping others through faith, hope and love is the point of all this and I’m so grateful that message is coming across. Many blessings and warm wishes to you. ❤ Jessie

      Reply

  20. thisbeatingheart Says:

    You remind me of myself. This is the first time, I’ve ever read anything like this, from woman who loves Jesus, like I do. I’ve been through a lot too…and I used to believe there was too much damage done, to one day, be free. In Him, in myself in any way. That I was dirty beyond repair…I had forgotten the love He has for us. That He suffered too. Words cannot express, in any way really, the feeling I have in my heart right now. I don’t feel so alone in the suffering I’ve gone through, or the memories it carries with it. No matter how many years go by, a certain smell can take you right back. I know you understand this. I know now the healing Jesus brings with Him, and how He can repair even the worst of damage. I just happened to read this, because I felt drawn too as I was perusing the tags. I’m so happy I did Jessie, because, even if we know we’re getting better, there’s always a time to say..you are not alone. Thank you for your courage. Your honesty. Your faith. From one woman, to another.

    Reply

    • Jessie Jeanine Says:

      Angie, you have touched my heart and soul deeply my friend and I am SO grateful. I feel your love, I feel your pain and you are SO incredibly precious! My biggest prayer for you is that you know and always remember that you are CLEAN, because of Him. Jesus suffered and died for you, so you can relate to Him and you are not dirty or broken beyond repair no matter what anyone ever says. And when Satan wants to remind you of your past (memories, flashbacks, smells, etc.) you remind him of his future! The world needs survivors like you, like us, because we are God’s testimony of how good can come from tragedy – we are hope for other victims and you are NEVER alone Angie. Thank you SO much for your transparency and I hope to stay in touch. From my heart to yours ❤

      Reply

Trackbacks/Pingbacks

  1. How To Move On (part 1) | Jessie Jeanine - January 27, 2014

    […] me, I feel like I have to get these stories down on paper. Kidnapped, Molested and Shattered have become rather easy for me to talk about now, because I allowed myself […]

  2. DIE TRYING - January 6, 2014

    […] An incredible woman dedicated this post to me called, “Dear Jessie” after reading my story “Kidnapped” and I’d like to share how it has affected […]

  3. Before I Give Up | Jessie Jeanine - January 6, 2014

    […] woman dedicated this post to me called, “Dear Jessie” after reading my story “Kidnapped” and I’d like to share how it has affected […]

  4. Dear Jessie | DIE TRYING - January 5, 2014

    […] http://jessiejeanine.com/2011/11/20/kidnapped/ […]

  5. Calling New Believers! « Jessie Jeanine - December 8, 2011

    […] to follow a destination of temptation. The deeper our roots are, the stronger we can withstand the storms of […]

  6. I Am Not A Victim, I Am A Survivor! « Jessie Jeanine - November 24, 2011

    […] spouse abuse, religious abuse, criminal abuse and even self abuse. The icing on the cake was being kidnapped and tortured. So, the cherry on top, you might ask? Well, maybe we can decide together someday, […]

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