How could I make a choice like this? A daughter that not long ago was playing with Susie dolls and now was a suckling teat for a brown skinned bastard baby. Compare that to a younger girl I had not seen in several years who had now twice been thrown into slavery and depravity at the hands of terrorists. Maybe Pamela was the right choice, her life burdened with a child and yet her sanity maybe more intact than her younger sister. No! I could not make that choice, not yet anyway.

I was a drowning man adrift on the ocean clinging to a small spar of driftwood as the sharks circled. Not ready to give in yet, clinging to that last spark of hope. Death was always staring you in the face grinning, all you could do was grin back and never show the bastard your true fear that came in the dark of the night when your mind tried to comprehend the incomprehensible.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"How are you Baby Girl?" I asked looking at the small bundle in my daughter's lap, the brown lips still wet with the suckled mother's milk. Pamela calmly placed the baby over her shoulder, a small towel below the head as she gently patted the baby's back, waiting for the resultant burp.

"I've been better and you?"

"Same." We could have been discussing our feelings for a television show we'd just watched and the manner of conversation only added to the eeriness of the entire morning. "I missed you sweetheart, are you all right?"

Her face finally turned to look me directly in the eyes. "All right? What the fuck do you think? They've kind of used me as they wanted since Madrid, Dad. I thought you of all people would understand after what little Jilly went through before. You read the psychiatrists reports about the nightmares she was having concerning what they did to her and Pamela's daughter."

I blanched. The flashing thoughts of the video tape and the horrendous death inflicted on my late wife Pamela's teenaged daughter came back in a rush. Jesus, I somehow felt in seeing her alive and well that her path might not have been that bad but I knew that was had only been wistful thinking.

"I'm sorry, things are kind of muddled right now, that's all."

"Ain't no muddling at all Daddy Man, Peanuts here dun been real good doing what she does best, right Peanuts?" Butch voice was a deep rumble, the massive frame hunched forward elbows on his knees as he stared me down, challenging me to make a move.

"Sure, I've done great Butch," she mumbled still burping the baby but her gaze dropped away from me, shifting to the carpet at her feet in the true mannerism of a well trained slave.

"You want to hear some stories about the parties Peanut here done been a star in Daddy Dude? Bet I can raise the shackles on your hair telling you about the double trick she done pulled right before the kid was dropped. Had a fifteen-inch donkey dong up that little snatch of hers when her belly was out to here," he illustrated by putting one hand about eighteen inches in front of his bulging belly. "Shit, it be a miracle that little brown runt ain't got one eye gone from that donkey dong poking him in da face."

I knew he was trying to get my goat, I saw Hans grinning ear to ear as he watched my reaction and listened.

"Tell him what the double was," Hans urged chuckling.

"Oh yeah, the bestus part of that evening was when she took on twelve homies at a time, her holes all stuffed and dicks shoved at her from everywhere. I'm talking big dicked niggas here Daddy Dude, they weren't no swinging dick less than ten maybe eleven inches in the bunch. Got that one on DVD too, wanna see her suck black cock right outta her ass time after time. Chocolate sauce all over them yummy pink lips of hers."

The images Butch brought up in my mind caused my stomach to lurch. I looked at Pamela but her face was impassive, only a slight tensioning of her jaw line betrayed the inner turmoil I was sure she was feeling. I looked more closely at my daughter's young face, already small lines were crinkling the edges of her eyes from too little sleep and too much drugs or sex or whatever she was being subjected to. Gone was the teenager, now a woman child wise beyond her years was before my eyes.

One thing I knew after watching my Jilly bloom was that youth had resilience and could overcome most anything. The drug abused run-a-way huddled on the alleys of the Strip giving blow-jobs at ten dollars a pop to help get her and her man's next fix could return to society with a meaningful and purposeful life. Given the opportunity that is and away from the drugs. Given the opportunity, my mind mumbled looking closely at my fourteen-year old mother.

"I'm still your little girl Daddy," she said in a half whisper, a sad smile trying to form at the corners of her lips but failing miserably. I felt wetness at the corners of my eyes and knowing these assholes were watching me closely to see if I broke I fought off the sadness that overwhelmed. How could I choose such a harsh fate? ......(cont)