Kiah’s Story
This is the story of a resident at The WellHouse. Names and locations have been changed to protect the survivor. Images are representatives of the women we serve.
I’m Kiah, and this is my story.
Happy, wild, and free. This is how I felt going into my teenage years. I grew up in an amazing, loving family, and though life wasn’t always perfect, I was content. I felt loved. I felt safe. That was all taken away from me one summer. I went to a summer camp in another town away from home. I was 14 years old. I was vulnerable, and someone took advantage of that. As a young teenager, I wanted to be home for the summer with my friends. I was upset that I had to go to camp and ultimately did not want to be there, but I tried to make the best of it.
One day, this girl came along and told me that her parents were coming to get her early, and that she would take me home. I thought she was my someone I could trust. That night, she told me they were coming to get us, and that we had to go down the road to a nearby church where they would pick us up. All I could think about was being home and spending the summer with my family and friends. So I left with her, and I was so excited. That quickly changed. On our journey down to the church, she made a stop at a home nearby and used their phone to call her “parents”. While I waited outside, I was happy to hear that her parents were “on the way and almost there”.
We got to the church parking lot. I was exhausted, thirsty, and now fear was setting in. We were alone, in a place I have never been, late at night. The car pulled up and we got in the backseat. My stomach dropped seeing two men in the front seats. The doors were quickly locked, and we were on the road. I asked for a drink and was given a bottle of juice. I drank it and was unconscious for the rest of the ride. When I woke up, I knew I wasn’t in Texas, nor was I in Houston heading to my parents. I was alone with these men. The girl I was with was now gone.
I was not safe. I was not loved. I was just scared. I was made to shower and give them my clothes. I was told that I was going home, but I was now being held captive. The next week or so damaged my soul in ways I didn’t know were possible. I was drugged, beaten, moved around, and locked up in different locations. I was locked in closets for long periods of time, sexually abused, and ultimately tortured.
I would escape these days of misery by leaving my body and imagining I am home with my family. I tried to make myself believe this was just a bad dream. I was locked inside a tiny little trailer deep in the woods for the last couple days before they realized it was time to take me elsewhere.
PART TWO
That elsewhere was Mexico. The men had arranged for me to be purchased and taken across the border. The whole drive, I was locked in the back of the car and made to lay down on the floor board. Every so often, I would peek up and just hope I was finally being taken home. We stopped at a gas station and I told the men I was thirsty and needed to use the restroom. They drove to the back of the gas station, handed me a few quarters, and let me out of the child-locked doors. They were hiding from the cameras.
I knew this would be my last moment of freedom, so I took it. I ran to the payphone in the parking lot, which had a camera on it. I stood there screaming and shaking, a homeless man standing at a distance to protect me. An angel on earth. I made a call and the police were there within minutes. I was taken to the hospital and reunited with my family.
I was happy to be home, but nothing was ever the same. The pain I experienced brought so much anger, rage, shame, depression, and more. I couldn’t live with the emotions I was experiencing. I tried so hard just to be “normal” again. I went back to school, went horseback riding, and spent time with friends. I kept myself busy just to suppress the feelings I had about what happened to me. Sometimes it felt like a bad dream. But, most of the time, it was so real I did not know what to do. My family stood by my side and tried to support and love me through everything, even when I pushed them away and ran away.
At age 17, I fell “in love” with a 26 year old man. When I turned 18, we got an apartment together. He was a different person behind closed doors. He introduced me to drugs and took me out to nightclubs. He continuously put me in uncomfortable situations, one day making me pick “something” up from his friend, ultimately resulting in my arrest as the package I picked up was a large amount of drugs. I had been set up.
I took probation, but violation after violation led me to do some time. Towards the end of that time, I received mail from a man who claimed we had met outside of a nightclub. He sent me pictures of his luxury cars, exotic travels, and all of the finer things in life. He told me he wanted to help me get back on my feet once I got out.
I was sent to a halfway house where we were allowed out during the day to look for jobs, so I would walk over to the library and use the computer. Three days into my job search, I was leaving the library and was met with the same car I had seen in the photos. He told me he wanted to take me out to eat and then drop me back off. After a nice lunch and a few drinks, he took me back to my hometown. He took care of everything, fulfilling his promise to get me “back on my feet.”
He then posted pictures of me online and exploited me for sex in order to “pay him back.” I was headed for Los Angeles when I was stopped by the police. There was a warrant out for my arrest for leaving the halfway house early. I did the rest of my time, and after an emotional trial, was given a reduced sentence. I was free again.I went to be with my sister. But being back home and around people from my past, I easily fell back into “the life,” all the while using drugs to numb my pain.
Eventually, I saved up enough money and got away from “the life” for a little while. I got a job, signed the lease for a beautiful town home, had a nice car, and was finally feeling normal again. I was happy. But, that didn’t last long.
PART THREE
I met a monster in disguise. I fell in love fast. At first, he treated me like a queen. Then one day he beat and choked me until I blacked out. He had a way of making me feel like it was my fault, and I believed it every time he hurt me for the next two years. He always loved on me after and explained to me how I made him do it.
One day, it went too far. He was beating me in a parking lot and a pedestrian called the police. He was picked up by the police shortly after, spent some time in jail, got out and did it again. I had no one to call but my father. I wish he had never seen me like that. But, I needed him and he was there.
Some time passed and I headed back to the city. I was alone and my monster was in jail. I went to my friend’s house and she gave me something to ease the pain. My addiction to opiates was born. While my monster was in jail, he would call me for help. I was to pay the bond, hire a lawyer, and put money on his book. He was trafficking me from jail.
I paid half of his bond, the retainer for an attorney, and made sure all his needs were met. All the while, I was struggling with an addiction that took over me in a matter of months. I was scared of him and what would happen when he returned home, so I stopped answering his calls.
In a matter of weeks I met another man. I gave him a chance, all the while juggling an addiction behind the scenes. All I had been forced to do by my “boyfriend” in the past began catching up with me and I was arrested again. This man was there to bond me out of jail. He took me home the next morning and bought the drugs I told him I needed. Soon he told me I owed him the bond money and if I didn’t pay it back he would go after my family. He forced me to work at strip clubs and post an ad, beating me if I came back empty handed. Life became a miserable, meaningless blur wrought with shame. I was so tired of everything. I just wanted to be happy, wild and free again. I wanted to feel loved. I wanted to feel safe.
Around Thanksgiving, I went to my parents house to be with my family for the holidays. I shared some of how I was feeling with my mom, but got overwhelmed and left shortly after. I returned to the man I met while my monster was in prison. I wanted to leave but he treated me as if he owned me. If I left without permission or turned off my phone’s location sharing he would threaten me. So, I started a fight over nothing hoping he would get fed up and tell me to leave. He did.
I left with nothing but bruises and my nightgown. I was thrown outside - alone and empty handed. I ran to the neighbor’s house and used their phone. I called one person. I invited the monster back into my life. He came to get me and everything went back to how it was. One night, I was hurt and he knew I needed to go to the hospital. He dropped me off and begged me not to say anything about him. That was the night I found out I was pregnant.
I called a friend to come get me and stayed with her for the night. The next morning I called rehab after rehab. I found one facility that would help a pregnant woman detox, and asked my parents to take me. Getting sober was the most painful two weeks of my life. My mom was right by my side, holding my hand the whole way through.
I wasn’t ready to return home, so I went to a Sober Living home for a couple of weeks. Without drugs to numb all the pain, everything I had suppressed since age 14 rose to the surface. I was pregnant and scared and just wanted to run from it all. So, I left the facility and went to stay with a friend.
One night, the monster called asking about the baby and saying he wanted to talk but I hung up. When I walked out of the apartment that night he was parked outside and dragged me to the car to “talk.” I was taken to a hotel room and beaten. He threatened to shoot the baby in my stomach if I didn’t pay for putting him in jail. He gave me the phone and instructed me to get the money. I quickly texted my mom with the address and an “SOS.”
The police showed up and arrested him. After they searched the room, I too was arrested. I was devastated. While awaiting my court date to receive a bond, my support system searched like crazy for a place I could find the refuge I needed to heal. That place was The WellHouse.
I finally found a place I didn’t want to run from. A place I felt safe. A place to heal. A place to face my past. A place to grow in myself and in the Lord. Since being here, I have done just that. I finally don’t blame myself for the things that happened to me. I am learning to love myself again and let others love me in the process. I have restored relationships with my family. I have restored my relationship with Jesus Christ. I have let go of the shame that has kept me trapped in a perpetuating cycle for the last 10 years. I’m no longer in pain. I have my smile back. I have my laugh back. I am happy, joyous, and free!
I look forward to continuing down this road. I am forever grateful to the people involved in my restoration, growth and recovery. I am forever grateful for this opportunity here at The WellHouse. God has plans for the most broken of people. I believe there is beauty in the ashes and that his plans for me are great.
Kiah continues to heal and grow at The WellHouse, and she will soon move to our transitional living apartments to have more room to share with her beautiful daughter. We are thankful she found refuge here, and are immensely proud of her bravery in sharing her story.