AN ESCORTS STORY -
By Susan Stafford
It all began when I didn't have a place to live. Herb had phoned and he offered me a place to stay and the perfect opportunity, a modeling job. It was a lie. It was sex. My step-father made me a prostitute. I had it all. A companion in a fully loaded car, an expensive condo, and the best that life could afford, yet I was miserable. Miserable under the influence of my pimp, rapist, and role model step father - and he was the one making money off of my destruction. It wasn't suppose to be that way, was it?
It wasn't until three years later that I was able to free myself from his grip. One night I just took off and drove to Florida. I remained in the escourt business and also worked in a whorehouse, and also got involved in a serious\relationship. Many times family and friends would lovingly tell me that I needed to change, but I wouldn't hear of it. Not even for my boyfriend.
I became pregnant and gave birth to a still-born son that was fortunate enough to be revived. I named him Colton. I really loved him, even more than myself. I fought kicking and screaming while trying to work in the escort service to support him, but there was a lot of falls, bumps and bruises a long the way.
We moved to Illinois, I got my son another babysitter near Chicago for the evening. After seeing a few clients, the next thing I know I ended up in jail.
That wasn't supposed to happen. But no sweat, I thought, it was my first offense. You see, on a first offense in the USA it was considered a minor misdemear. I should have been out in four hours. I repeat: four hours. But that never happened. Four hours turned into ten, then twenty-four, then two days, than three, then four. I was given no water to drink, not even a sip! That wasn't suppose to happen either. I will never forget that 3rd night. I thought that was where my life had ended. You see, by the time the 3rd night came, I really believed that I was never going to get out. All I could do was think about Colton. I thought about the state taking him because of his mother being in jail. I wanted to tell him how sorry I was for being such a horrible mother. I knew there was something wrong going on behind the system, but there was obviously nothing that I could do about it. All I could do was feel completely hopeless over my situation.
That was when I finally broke and cried out to God. God told me that he too understood the pain of loosing a first born son. I chose the road that led me into that jail. But I knew God would choose the road that led me out.Nineteen years later, God has transformed me.
