The InBox
Copyright © 2016,2019 by VeryWellAged
Author's note: These years are NOT stand-alones...The story starts here
From: Melinda Wilson-Franzese [[email protected]]
Sent: Tuesday, February 23, 2016 8:27AM
To: Evie [[email protected]]
Subject: Janey!!!!!
Hi Evie,
I don’t know how to start this, or what to say or why am even sending this to you. Maybe after you have read, what I received this morning, you can help me make sense of all of it. I got this email from Janey this morning. I am pasting in here what she wrote.
- - - -
Hi Sis,
It’s been a while and though I needed the time, I am sorry for having worried you. I have a long story to tell you, and it is not an easy one to write, or one that will be easy to read. But I am OK now. Before I start on the story, let me give you a piece of really good news!
You are an Aunt twice. Now to my daughter Susan Wilson Wilson. She was born just seven days ago. Mother and daughter are doing fine. Also to my wonderful daughter Melissa Wilson Wilson, who was born April 3, 2014.
You are also a half-sister to: Vikki’s girl Sahira, and her boy Jomar, to ’Day’s girl Amapola, Jhoan’s boy Alvin, and Jerlyn’s daughter Anenita. Yes, you have seven new ones. Congratulations!
OK now I will tell you what happened.
When I had my itinerary to travel to see Dad, I sent it to him via email. What I did not know is that there is only one computer in the house and all use it. Vikki saw the email, noted the arrival date and time before deleting it. Dad didn’t know I was on my way.
When I got to his city’s airport and exited, there was a man with my name on a large piece of white board. He said he was there to pick me up and take me to my Dad.
He didn’t take me to my Dad. He kidnapped me and took me to a building where I was repeatedly raped and knocked around. Sometimes I was taken by one, sometimes by two. Sometimes three took me at the same time. I was a fuck doll for them. They used very hole I have. They would piss on me and then clean me up by throwing a bucket of water on me.
I heard them say that I was to be sold as a slave, via the Abu Sayyaf to a man from Dubai.
One of the men there took pity on me and told me that I had been taken because women who were safe, would not have been safe, if I have been allowed to continue on. It was my life for theirs. I had been stupid. I should not have meddled in things that I didn’t understand.
They kept me there for over two weeks. I was raped at least three times a day. I learned their names, I knew their faces, and decided I would seek revenge on them if I ever got free.
But that never happened because one night I heard shooting and at least two explosions. I turned the cot upside down and climbed under it. I prayed.
Then it was quiet. I could see nothing in the dark.
I felt a hand on me. It was gentle. A whisper from a woman. It’s OK, now. The Abu Sayyaf will not get you. You will come with us. Come.
I crawled out from under the cot. I could not see the woman well enough to know who she was. When I exited the room I could see all the men who had kept me. They were all dead. Every one of them, dead.
The woman, whom I still did not know pushed me out of the room and out into the back of an SUV. We rode for the better part of a couple of hours to a small house. I was taken inside, washed, and fed the first good meal I had eaten since I arrived in the Philippines. I was given clothing to wear.
I asked the woman’s name. She told me to call her Ate. I told her I need to leave, but she told me, I was safe but not free. I had been saved, but now I needed to learn. Once I had learned, I would be allowed to leave.
Learn I did. I will not bore you with the details, but I learned about the life of the average poor Filipina. I learned about her prospects. I learned what her options were. I learned a great deal. No one touched me other than to massage me. That is until I had my period. The men who had raped me, had not impregnated me. I breathed a sigh of relief.
And then one night I was bathed and perfumed. I was blindfolded. I ball gag was put into my mouth, and I was taken to a man. I did not know who he was. He didn’t say a word, and I could not speak. Other than the fact that someone placed me on his penis, he didn’t touch me. When he was done, I was removed and brought back to my room. This happened every night I was, by the calendar and a thermometer, the most fertile. When my fertile time in early June was over, there was no more contact with the man, until when I became fertile in early July. Once again I was brought to this man and once again not a word or the touch of a hand. Nothing. Just, each night, his penis inside of me and his release inside of me.
The lessons continued. I continued to learn. Language, history, and the reality of life on these islands.
I did not have my period toward the end of July. I was sure I was pregnant and so were those who kept me in that room. I was given a pregnancy test. I was pregnant.
Once they knew I was pregnant, there was no waiting until ‘my time.’ I was bathed perfumed and taken to the man. Once again the same things. No sound, no touch other than that damned penis hard inside me and finding release.
And then. Someone removed my blindfold. Below me and still inside of me was the man. He was also blindfolded. He had a big smile of his face. To my left I saw Vikki. She asked the man, Who is on you tonight?
He guessed, Jerlyn?
Jerlyn, from behind me said, Wrong again!
The man groaned and said, It’s not fair. I can’t be wrong so many times! I know all three of you so well!
And then Jerlyn removed my ball gag. But you never knew what I felt like Dad.
He ripped the blindfold off himself and went white as a ghost. He didn’t say a word.
From the very back of the room the woman I knew as Ate spoke. She carries your child, Willie. She is yours now.
All the women left the room. I was still on top of Dad and his penis was still inside me and curiously getting larger by the second. I could have gotten off, but I didn’t. I made love to Dad. Dad made love to me. I stayed in his arms all night. I knew he had no idea what had happened to me. I knew in an instant that this was not his doing. If there was one man I was not angry with, it was the one whose child I was carrying.
We held each other and then slept. In the morning he asked me what had happened and I told him everything.
It seems your attempts to contact me alerted Dad that there was something wrong. He told me that he told Jhoan that if anything bad happened to me, there would be hell to pay from him.
That was what got me rescued from the men who were going to sell me. It got them killed. Those deaths were never reported. Life is like that here. People are killed, life goes on. The more I learned, the more I realized I have been a horse’s ass all my life! I also realized that the life I had with Steve was built on condescension toward others and a misguided sense of superiority.
The women here do not believe in abortion and it is illegal. I am sure I might have found a way, but Dad didn’t want me to do that. He actually wanted our child and made sure I knew that often. He was no longer Dad. No longer the man I fought never-endingly. He was a sweet, caring man, who only wanted peace and quiet. The other women told me I was one of them now. I wasn’t buying that in the beginning, but I came to realize that there was nowhere to go. Nowhere that I felt right within. Here I was with Dad. I knew that I was always going to have his love and that he would care for our child.
On August 2, I sat down with Jhoan, who I call Ate. I told her I would stay. She told me to talk with Dad. We talked and I told him that I did not want Steve listed as the father. I asked his help in getting a divorce. He agreed. That is when I went to the Embassy.
When I got there, people were freaking out thinking I was in trouble. It took me a while, but the best I could come up with to get them to knock it off was to tell them that Steve was an abuser and I was hiding out at my Dad’s place. They bought the story and all settled down.
Dad got email from his friend Scott and just could not deal with it. That was the end of that. It made Dad sad, but he said, my being with him and the coming birth of the child made it necessary.
The divorce went through easy enough. I was now unmarried and at the dinner table I was joking around and said, OK Dad, I am free to marry. When are you going to propose?
It was a joke. I was teasing, but the others at the table took up the challenge for me, telling him, he should marry me. He said, I can’t! It’s not legal.
But Jhoan said, How you know that?
It turns out that two foreigners cannot marry in the Philippines, but they can in Thailand. It took all of three minutes with smartphones and a web search to figure that out.
I am not sure Dad really wanted to marry me, but all in the house were pushing for it. I think he just relented and decided to go with the flow. I think I really wanted it.
Three months before your niece Melissa was born, Dad and I married. Vikki was the Maid of Honor. And so because of naming conventions here I am Jane Elizabeth Wilson Wilson.
So I am both your sister and your step-mother. You are both an aunt and a half-sister to my two girls.
But you should know three things.
First, what the others did to me was because they were terrified for their lives if I broke things up in their lives with Dad. It was an act of self-preservation. I understand that now and accept that they did what they needed to do. In retrospect, if it had not been for that, I really might have made a hash of things here.
Second, I am happier than I have ever been in my life.
Third, anyone who wants to contact us (I got Willie to agree and yes I call him Willie now), may do it with one proviso. You must accept that things are as they are and: no arguing about it, no criticizing it, no problems of any kind. Oh… and no telling Steve or Mom!
All my love,
/s/Jane Elizabeth Wilson Wilson
OK Evie, what happens next?
Melinda
✉
From: Evie [[email protected]]
Sent: Tuesday, February 23, 2016 11:31AM
To: Melinda Wilson-Franzese [[email protected]]
Subject: Re: Janey!!!!!
Melinda,
I have read this over three times. I have read it out loud to Scott. His response was to go to our liquor cabinet and pour three fingers of Scotch and down the whole damned thing.
Scott said it sort of sounded like Stockholm Syndrome.
I don’t think Scott will re-engage with your Father. I suspect those days are over. It’s just a guess, but I know my husband pretty well.
I have to agree with Janey in one way. If we have nothing nice to say, we should keep it to ourselves. I see nothing good that comes out of challenging what has happened. Janey made it perfectly clear it was not your Father’s doing.
Are you up to contacting them without rancor?
Have you told your husband?
Are you really going to not tell your mother? I am sure she wants to know that Janey is safe. At least she should know Janey is living in her ex’s home and so visiting is not a good idea.
Evie
✉
From: Melinda Wilson-Franzese [[email protected]]
Sent: Tuesday, February 23, 2016 1:28PM
To: Evie [[email protected]]
Subject: Re: Re: Janey!!!!!
Hi Evie,
Thanks for the perspective. I am sorry to hear about your husband's feelings, but I surely understand.
I will talk with Janey about Mom. I also need to talk to her about what I tell my husband.
I think it is time I met my siblings in the Philippines and at least I know I will not be kidnapped.
Melinda.
✉
✉