Yes Mr PresidentMature

14 year old Verity is kidnapped, raped and sold to a wealthy middle eastern business man. ten years later she has four children and the American government has arrested her husband on terrorist charges. when her birth name is discovered she has a choice either a) leave for Britain with the children and leave her husband to the mercy of the justice system or b) stand with him and risk losing everything including her life


The Beginning


It all started with the car. The dirty grey fiat.  The arms. The green jumper.  I was christened Verity Faith Goddard. I was born 4th July 1995 in Middlesex County Hospital. I lived in a four bedroom house in Chelmsford with my Mum, Dad and little sister Cassandra. I was fourteen years old when they came for me. Chugging slowly along in their filthy automobile until there was no one about and I was distracted by a text from my best friend Lilith. Then they sped up, one of them jumped out and grabbed my waist dragging me backwards. My Phone lands on the pavement and cracks, geography coursework tumbles out of my bag touching down in a puddle. I hear a voice crying out “Get off, get off” I don’t realise until afterwards that it’s mine. The car door slams, the vehicle accelerates and my life vanishes in a blur of lamp-posts and hedges.


  The man in front of me opens his mouth and starts to recite my rights in a long blown out U.S drawl. His Shirt is clinging to his skin in the hot climate of Guantanemo bay. The badge on his chest states: Michael Rosswide. CIA. He should have tried the sudden climate change between southern England and the Middle East. Now Mrs Bin Nodnol may I ask you to remove you head covering. “This is against her rights it is our religion” my “husband” Mohammed bin Nodnol protests, his words are quickly translated by a brainless Italian who was mis-translating most of the Arabic. “Actually” my voice rang out clear in perfect English “I would be more than happy to remove my hijjab on the condition you call my parents, a lawyer and a childcare centre for Aara, Madia, Tanisha and Dayyan” the CIA officers face is quite a picture as I remove the garment that has covered my naturally pale complexion and blue eyes for ten years. Twenty Four years old and I have a nine year old, a seven year old and two three year old twins. “Right, OK, state your full maiden name” I pause, what if revealing my self will only save me? But there only children they’d let me keep them wouldn’t they? “My Name is Verity Faith bin Nodnol nee Goddard” He whispers urgently into his radio and pales at the response. “Miss Goddard would you and your children please accompany me to the governor’s office” We walk fast two guards carry Tanisha and Dayyan, Aara and Madia hold my hands begging to know why can’t daddy come with us. Down a long colourless corridor there is a single door. The sweaty CIA agent opens it and ushers the five of us in.


The flat was mouldy and disgusting but no where near as foul as the two men tearing at my school uniform almost visibly alight with the sick desire to commit felony and rape a young girl. The skirt is ripped off, the tights and knickers down and I’m screaming begging them to let me go. They tortured me for over ten minutes and then left me sobbing, feeling dirty and horrible even though deep down it wasn’t my fault in anyway. One of them picks up his mobile on the first ring “yeh hello… yeh we’ve got the latest batch of goods…..your coming tomorrow for pick up…… see you tomorrow” the phone is put down “Barry we’ve only got twenty four hours with little miss hot stuff, what do you think?” “Nah she’s more likely to blub all over the buyer if we try again ”


“Miss Goddard can you please explain what happened to you on the 24th April 2009?”  I thought hard this was just another man no different to Barry and Mr Green Jumper. No different to Mohammad bin Nodnol. After all I had Aara when I was fifteen in the UK sex becomes legal at sixteen. Under UK law all three of them are guilty of rape. “If I told you I went from Heaven to hell and then to purgatory would you believe me?” The Lines on Guantanemo governor’s forehead ascended in thought. “Yes I believe I would, I assume from your date of birth you are twenty four and your eldest daughter has to be at least 9 or 10 years old.”                            

The End

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