"You know, Sofi...mi nina...you'll have to get used to being praised by men. Being sought after and wanted. And one day will come that you'll have to do special favors to appease these men who value you...think you can conquer this, Mayte?"

When I realized that...that night with my mother would be the last time I would ever see her happy and alive, I wish I had gone with her. I was about maybe...11 when my druglord, "don juan" father had her assassinated. He was angry...furious at my mother Nawal...changing me from the dumb child to the smart-ass. He couldn't stand having women under his foot knowing things of the world. He started taking notice me in a way a father shouldn't ever take notice to his daughter. It was sickening...I still get nauseated at the thought that if he had his way, I could have been laying down with some stranger with him watching me "make a transaction" by now. It's...maddening, bloody maddening each time I think about my father, Emilio Espinosa.

"When I met your father, he suckered me into a game and I...lost. The next morning, I found out I was having you. At first, he wanted me to have you aborted, said that he couldn't be bothered with raising a child, but...he gave me an odd look, child...a look that a man gives a woman when he see's her as something less than a good wife...property."

My mother, a midwife from Southern Egypt, was running about in Madrid when she met him...but she wanted me born on her home-soil, so...here I am, straight out of Luxor, Egypt. Joined the Army briefly as a Military physician and field medic until...until Bahiah, my late daughter. I've been hunted after, captured...kept as a POW...raped and lost my child within the span of 5 years...so much has changed for me and I don't know exactly how to cope with it.

I guess...writing in this letter book helps. I don't want to go to a doctor, can't exactly afford one right now.

I got to Bristol...things changed. I bounced around a bit until I made a stop in London. Luckily, I had money made from that housekeeping job for that Bristol hotel a while back. Kinda missed it. First chance I got, I hopped on that plane with nearly all of my savings and landed in Florida, here in the States. I've caught rides, buses...spent a good chunk of what I had left on me until I stumbled upon little ol' Hathian.

Mm...reminds a little of Bristol after dark.

I've been wandering around the city a bit to grasp its vastness; never seen so much in one place...so much darkness. My father would revel in this kind of place, but I left Europe to forget him and his men, who I know would be after me. I'm his child...his prized possession, his...his potential source of income.

I feel so sick right now, writing this...so close to vomiting...I'll have to finish this at a later date or...after I'm done puking up my dinner.