Chapter 1

"Ahmeed, Hussein, and Samirah, come to me," Mustafa called out to them from the back room. The three children went to see what their father wanted, each afraid of what he might say. Since

Saddam has been over thrown and the Americans took over, life has been very hard for most Iraqi citizens. "Sit," he instructed, pointing to the mats on the floor they use for sleeping.

The news will not be easy for the children but he felt they needed to know. "More than seven weeks ago your mother went with

Aishia to Damascus in search of work. She was to send for us once she had money and found a place to live. We have not heard from her or Aishia since they left and we must assume the worse."

Samirah's mouth dropped open and she began to cry.

When her mother left, she told her that as the only girl at home, she would be responsible to care for the baby and to look after the rest of the family until they are joined again. She has tried to do her best but it has been very hard. She turned to Ahmeed, at 15-years old; he's the oldest of the children and is in charge when their father leaves to find work. He too had tears in his eyes but was too manly to show them.

13-year-old Hussein wasn't as strong and began sobbing at the thought of losing his mother and younger sister. Aishia had just turned 12 a week before they left and their mother thought she was old enough to find work as a house servant and help earn money to send for the others. Samirah won't be 10 for two more months and was too small to really help out. Besides, as her mother pointed out, she would be only one more mouth to feed until they earn money.

"Do not mention this to your brothers," Mustafa warned. "I do not want to worry them needlessly. They are still young and won't fully understand." The children nodded in agreement. Hugging his children, he kissed each of them on the forehead. "I must go into the city to look for work. I shall return later today. Ahmeed, you watch over them," he said putting his hand on his eldest child's shoulder.

"Father, you go everyday to the city and you find very little work and you are gone so long every day."

"I know, my son, but I must do what I can. Even if I make enough for a few vegetables I can make a soup and hopefully I will have enough left over to buy some goat's milk for the baby. Remember, through faith, Allah will provide for us."

"Allow me to go with you then. The two of us looking will surely find work."

"Ahmeed, I have told you before, you are the eldest and if anything were to happen to me, you must care for the family."

"Don't say that, Father. Nothing will happen to you."

"We don't know that. Everyday there are bombs in the market place and gunshots are heard all around. The Taliban is trying to take back this area and they are fighting much more with the

Americans."

"Then please, Father, do not go. It is too dangerous!"

"I must, my son or we will have nothing to eat. It has already been two days since the last time any of us has had food and the baby is getting sick from having only water to drink. If I am not home by sunset, make sure the family is taken care of." The three watched as their father left, kissing the foreheads of their seven-year-old brother, Habib and five-year-old Zafar before walking to Omar lying in his crib. "Goodbye, my son," he said bending over to kiss his baby.

Samirah picked up the crying child and rocked him gently. He's so hungry. They all are. For more than a day her stomach has hurt and makes funny noises often. Never before has she gone so long without food. "Have some more water," she said pushing the bottle to the baby's mouth. Within seconds the baby began choking and coughing, and Samirah turned him to pat his back just as he began vomiting all over her.

That's the third time in two days he's done that! Handing Omar to

Hussein, she rushed outside. "I must go to the river to clean up," she called out holding her dress away from her body and turning her head to avoid smelling the stench. The river is only a half a kilometer away but seems so far when you're rushing to get there.

Removing the soiled garment, she squatted at the river's bank, and rubbed the fabric together to remove the baby's mucus. She heard the voices before she saw who they were and turned to see the three American soldiers heading her way. She stood to leave, dropping her dress in her haste.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" one of the men asked rushing toward her. She looked back at them as she ran to escape and tripped, falling to the ground. The men quickly over took her.

"Where do you think you're going, whore?" one of them asked towering over her. Another one reached down, pulling her arm and jerking her to stand.

"Where's your escort? I hear if you don't have a male family member escorting you, then you're a whore. Is that true, whore?"

"And look how she's dressed," the third man said roaming his eyes up and down her body. "Or should I say how she's NOT dressed," he added to the laughter of the others. "Only whores run around without any clothes on!"

"This bitch ain't got no tits," the taller of the three said reaching out to tweak her nipple.

"No, but I bet she's got a nice tight pussy, don't you whore?"

"Is it true Iraqi girls have tight pussies?"

"Yea, that's what I heard."

"Well, I say let's find out!" she heard before being lifted off her feet and carried toward the wooded area. She struggled, pounding her fists against the back of the man carrying her.

Realizing that wasn't working, she yelled out as loud as she could for help. She never saw the fist crashing down on her back, knocking the wind out of her.

"Shut the fuck up!" someone growled jerking her head up by her hair. She was brutally dropped to the muddy bank with a thud and once again had the air knocked from her lungs. She stared up at the three large men, each of them unbuckling their pants and glaring down at her.

"I found her, I'm going first," the stockiest of the three said reaching down to pull her panties off. She had seen her brothers naked from time to time and knew what those things were between their legs, but these were so much larger than any she'd ever seen before. She also has lived a very sheltered life and didn't know where they intended to put those large things until he knelt between her legs and tried pushing it into her small crack.

Using spit to wet the tip of his cock, he rubbed some spittle on her privates before trying once again to enter her. She cried out as the tip split her open and her body tensed. "Someone shove something into this whore's mouth to keep her quiet!" the man trying to push his thing inside of her called out. One of the other men knelt next to her head and pointed his hard thingy towards her mouth.

"Suck it, Slut!" he said rubbing it along her lips. Samirah was terrified. Never before has anything like this happened to her and the pain building between her legs was more than she could stand. Finally something gave way and the thick, hard flesh of the American forced its way inside of her budding womanhood. She opened her mouth to scream from the pain only to have the other man push his fleshy member further inside of her mouth, gagging her.

The two men repeatedly forced their filthy things into her body, one inside of her most private place and the other into her mouth making her want to throw up, just as Omar had done earlier. The third man began slobbering and sucking on her nipples, pinching and pulling them trying to get closer to her around the man thrusting on top of her. Tears rolled down her face as the pain between her legs grew and felt more like fire burning through her lower body.