Ms. Sina, They Called Me Angel: The Gift, #5

By Kara Beth Huddleston

Missionaries' daughter, Sina Dahlgren, was trafficked at an early age and faced horrendous trials that resulted in a fractured personality. In her freed adulthood, the strangely pigmented public speaker finds hope in the skills of brain surgeon and researcher, Dr. Eric Kim Galen. With heavenly aid and the help from the irresistible doctor, Sina must constantly confront her normal character traits as well as deal with residual emotional challenges and weaknesses to become whole. As she struggles in the physical realm, she is given special abilities to recognize and fight spiritual battles. Sina finds the combined strength and giftings to free her from her past and set her on a new life path, but will her newly bonded personality hold as she confronts Dr. Galen's vices and emotional disconnects? Constantly threatened by Dr. Galen's former lover and the one who sold her as a child, Sina must choose to forgive or destroy. Is her urge to annihilate the monsters stronger than God's love?  Will she ever find 'normalcy' and the home she always wanted?

Caveat Emptor

Books by KB may contain a few naughty words, occasional, mildly inappropriate behaviors, conservative viewpoints, religious ideologies, politically incorrect scenarios, activities beyond 'neuro normal', and plain old imagination.

If any of these things would cause offense, feel free to keep on walkin' down the line and buy someone else's books.

If you want a fun read, come on, grab a glass of iced tea, pull up a chair, sit a spell, and enjoy.

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kara Beth Huddleston
• Release date: Apr 1, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201926939

Kara Beth Huddleston

As a lifelong learner, Kara Beth self-identifies as a silver-haired, seasoned, sophisticated matron who wishes her creative efforts be widely dispersed before she leaps enthusiastically into eternity. Her three daughters call her quirky. It’s all about perspective. She could never keep in the lines in a coloring book or follow a recipe. Marching to the beat of her own drum gives a whole new meaning to syncopation. Though every authority has told her to write a serious bio, this is the best she can manage. She and husband, Ronald, recently celebrated 50 years of putting up with each other. They have the best kids (and their spouses) in the world, and grandchildren are their constant delight. Kara Beth is a Texan by birth, Yankee by schooling, and Georgian by retirement. She has degrees in music education and media communications. Through the years, she led children’s classes and choirs, wrote and produced Christian children’s musicals, and taught elementary music and private music lessons. She was also a homebound tutor for a large high school and has costumed for churches, schools, and regional theater.  She believes that the mind is capable of much more than anyone can imagine and believes in love at first sight. She is a staunch right-wing conservative. She believes in God’s supernatural power and His desire to interact with mankind. If you want to know the real Kara Beth, check out her blogs.

Book preview

Chapter 1

I’M SORRY, I THINK you have my seat.

A dark-haired beauty nestled against the plane window and sneered at the wraith-like woman in the aisle. You were late, and I don’t do aisles.

The man beside her grimaced at his companion and stood to help the newcomer push a small, beat-up duffel into the overhead bin. Sorry, he whispered.

She smiled sadly. I am sorrier for you. They sat down, mute strangers. She could have made a scene and gotten the window seat she was assigned, but she didn’t have the energy.

Sina was tired. Six meetings in two days wasn’t a record for her, but it was exhausting. She was thankful her brother, Lucas, was wrapping up everything and bringing home the advertising and audio-visual materials. She needed to get home to study and prepare for tomorrow’s project with her class partner. Maybe the professor would let them put things off a day.

Sina adjusted her large, soft-brimmed hat closer around her face and settled against the seat. She let her exhaustion take over and didn’t open her eyes again. Before the plane was ready for takeoff, her breathing had slowed into a deep sleep.

Greetings passengers. This is Captain Kersh Burmeister. We’ll be taking off in just a few minutes if the weather will hold for that long.

We have a young woman aboard today who is the best motivational speaker I have ever heard. I have a personal gift of her story for each passenger. This is not from the airline. It is from me. If you don’t want the book, place it in the pocket in front of you. Thank you for traveling with us, relax, and let’s have a good trip.

The staff handed the books quickly throughout the plane. Sina’s seatmate, Doctor Eric Kim Galen, recognized her picture on the small booklet. Not usually drawn to any but dark, Oriental women, he was captivated by the woman whose unnaturally marble white skin and printer paper white hair were not albino but nothing he remembered from any medical studies. The brief look into her intense blue eyes had been jolting, as if she saw his soul.

He offered the book to his friend and colleague, Meena Chou. She was too involved with her computer to be bothered with him. Another outrageously expensive trip where he picked up the tab for everything had not been to her liking. She was planning their next adventure. He was devising an exit strategy.

He read the back of the book. They Called Me Angel was the title. The author’s bio picture matched the stranger beside him, but the shocking paragraph that followed made him sick. He delved quickly into the heart of the book.

My father and mother were missionaries to the Orient, and I was an integral part of their ministry from the time I was born. They traveled throughout Asia to minister to prostitutes and tried to free them by persuasion, outright purchase, or subterfuge. Together with churches around the world, my parents helped girls and women reclaim their lives and find mental, emotional, financial, and physical freedom.

We would go to the heart of the red-light districts and set up our sound systems for our singing and Dad’s preaching. My mother was a Swedish, blonde beauty and was always an attraction no matter where she went, especially in the Orient. I have white skin and hair due to a condition called leucism. I am an oddity that produced an instant and interested audience. My mother and I would sing, and I would pass out presents to the prostitutes who were curious about us. I would tell them God loves them. With our unique coloring and costumes that added to the impression, the onlookers thought we were angels. Since angels are messengers from God, I guess in a way we were.

My parents and I loved our strange congregation. People were shocked I understood what prostitution was but because we were freeing children as young as four, I needed to know. By age ten, I was a masterful communicator and counselor. I went into brothels daily and challenged the prostitutes and their traffickers and handlers to change their lives.

The afternoon meetings were well attended by prostitutes and local merchants. The shop owners didn’t like our message as their survival depended on the sex trade, but they did like our singing. Though many thought me a freak because of my coloring, my mother dressed me prettily, and I made friends easily with those who came to the meetings.

One day we had an extremely interested crowd that included an Armani-suited businessman accompanied by a troupe of exquisitely dressed ladies. They listened politely and never took their eyes from me.

The next day, Mother and I were shopping for our lunch and saw the man. I asked him if he would come to our meeting that afternoon. He smiled and walked away. He nodded to a group of men standing nearby.

Eric looked at Sina Dahlgren whose head leaned awkwardly against the seat. He was glad the book had named her distinctive mutation because it was driving him crazy trying to remember the rare condition.

She had placed her stylish sun hat over her face, but it had fallen into the aisle. Her mother probably hadn’t dressed her today, but she was dressed prettily. Not so much that, as delicately. The soft coral and sage green of her long-sleeved dress with its flowing skirt coordinated with the color of her subtle makeup. Bright toenail polish peeped from out of her matching high heels. On her wrist, fingers, and neck were wide golden bands imbedded with gemstone quality coral and jade. Even her long fingernails and the fallen hat were matched to the tone of the jewels. Whatever she was, she was wealthy if her attire were indicative of her success.

Sina’s loud snoring prompted Eric to alter her head slightly. The snoring was louder. A smiling attendant passed by and put a pillow on Eric’s shoulder and pushed Sina’s head gently against him. Without waking up, Sina adjusted her body, and the snoring abated slightly. The attendant retrieved her hat from the aisle and placed it over her face, hoping to muffle the sound. Eric pointed to the airflow nozzle. The attendant aimed it toward Sina and covered her in a blanket. Eric and the attendant exchanged amused glances.

Getting a little personal, aren’t you? Meena snarled. She had seen Sina’s name and looked up her story online. Jealous manipulation was a powerful weapon in Meena’s control arsenal.

Eric knew she didn’t really care about him, but she didn’t want him to ever acknowledge anyone but her. Eric ignored her comment and read.

Around the edge of that afternoon’s group were the rough looking men from the morning. My dad was oblivious to anything but his preaching. Mom was tired but kept smiling. I felt uneasy and didn’t like the way the men looked at me. After the meeting while Dad went off with some men, Mom and I shopped quickly for our supper before it turned dark.

We walked down a street and were surrounded by the men whose presence I already feared. We were shoved into a door and gagged before we were able to react. We were led down a dark corridor, out onto another street, and into a limousine. A woman removed our gags, but mother remained quiet. Her eyes warned me to be still. We took in every detail of the men who sat on either side of us and the elegant man and woman who sat opposite.

The woman introduced herself as Kyung-Ja Chin and the man as Sung-ki Nahm. She explained in a sweet, lilting voice that we were now property of their enterprise. We both knew what that meant. My mother offered herself completely to them but begged for my release. Madame Chin assured us of excellent treatment and wealth beyond what we had as simple missionaries. Mom kept silent and plotted our escape.

We drove for over an hour and finally entered a long, tree-lined lane with a guarded gate and drove down a driveway to a mansion. Mother was becoming desperate and was ready to make a move though she saw the hopelessness of the situation. Even if she somehow managed to steal the car, we would never get past the guards and guns at the gate.

Mother and I were herded toward the massive doorway. She grabbed at the gun of the thug beside her and was rewarded for her bravery by a gun slammed against her head. She fell unconscious at my feet. Madame Chin slapped the man across the face, saying she wanted us in perfect condition.

My mother pretended to be unconscious as they dragged her through the house and downstairs into our prison cell. The room was more beautiful than anything I had ever seen. Its glittering lights reflected on satin and brocade that took my breath away. I regret that while my mother was trying to free us and needed me to help, I was a child enthralled with my surroundings. Mother made another escape attempt, stumbled into a captor, hit him appropriately in the groin, and again snatched his gun. She fired one shot before Master Nahm (as he insisted we call him) shot her in the back.

The next few moments were chaotic and life changing for me. I held my mother in my arms. Mommy loves you, she said, and God loves you. This is a bad thing that has happened to us, but God didn’t cause it. Evil did. Remember, God loves you. And them.

Madame Chin came down the stairs screaming at Master Nahm.

She would always be a liability. The child will be ours now. He told the men they could have my mother. Even in her dying state, they laughed and sexually abused her in front of me. When I tried to look away, Master Nahm grabbed my hair and made me watch.

I love you. My mother looked so sad. Father, forgive them.

Madame Chin took my hand and led me away. I never saw my mother again. I would live in hell for over six years before I saw my dad. I would live in limbo for another six years recovering from the kidnapping. I am better now, but still not what others call ‘normal’. I don’t know if I ever will know what a normal life is like. In the meantime, I tell my story and pray others will join in my fight against those who destroy lives.

Chapter 2

ERIC PUT DOWN THE BOOK and nervously thumbed the edges of the pages. His protected childhood was idyllic perfection. Sina’s had been atrocious torture. Dear God, I’ll never complain about anything again!

Meena gathered her computer and purse and pushed past Eric and Sina. I see there’s a seat in first class that’s open. I’ll complain about her snoring, and I’ll get a free upgrade. They won’t mess with me!

I won’t either and good riddance! Eric questioned how he had ever gotten involved with such an obnoxious woman. Working in the same medical facility, he had known her to be outgoing. Opposites attract, I guess. Who am I kidding? She pounced on me the moment I got an office in the building, and I didn’t have enough sense to see beyond her face and figure. Once she had her fangs in me, it was easier to go along for the ride. Until now. Now, I’m done!

During this trip, Meena disgusted him almost to the point of hatred. She complained about the hotel and its staff – the food didn’t suit her, the weather was too hot, the wind was too high, and the scenery was too dull. It was Hawaii! How could she complain? But complain she did. And sulk! The woman could pout until you wanted to choke her!

Choking was out of the question. Eric was a man dedicated to keeping his emotional balance at all costs. When his parents were killed in an accident, he had taken control of the funeral arrangements, all their business, dealt with his little sister, and arranged for his aunt to take over as caregiver while finishing his surgery fellowship. Through it all, he never shed a tear though he had loved his parents dearly.

He prided himself on the strong control of his emotions and tried to pass on his calming influence to his patients and their families. Eric took the health of his patients seriously, but so much was out of his control he learned to steel himself from caring enough to hurt or even be bothered by much of anything.

Anger at Meena was an exception and rattled his carefully built persona. He had been letting the small annoyances ride – the demands for jewelry, high priced restaurants, and expensive shows. He had taken those things in stride, assuming that all women in their economic level required those luxuries. When Meena’s overbearing rages accelerated during the trip, Eric was overcome with his own fury. His stomach burned with revulsion every time he listened to another of Meena’s whines. Her ungrateful attitude toward Eric ground his nerves. Her selfish rants sent darts of wrath through his aching head. He was almost sorry his self-control ran so deep. His ability to stay a gentleman throughout the ordeal restrained him from throttling Meena, but the demanding woman had tested him beyond endurance. His thoughts had intended to call Meena a few choice names, but the gentle spirit beside him caused him to stop his mental tirade.

Ms. Dahlgren’s spirit may have seemed tranquil, but her snores were savage. He smiled and determined to give Ms. Dahlgren the phone number for his friend. The ENT would be able to solve the snoring problem in one easy outpatient procedure. He tilted her head down, and the snoring was muffled slightly in the blanket.

For three months I was pampered in every way imaginable. I was measured for luxurious clothing and jewels. Mama Ja, as she was called, fussed over me and was at my beck and call as I struggled to reconcile my life without my parents. Mama Ja tried to make me her own child in every way.

I am sorry to say she distracted me quickly from my grief, giving me toys beyond imagination, reading to me, and playing games with me. She let me eat the best of both regular food which had never been in abundance with Mama and Dad, and sweets which Dad had never allowed. But best of all were the books.

My father had little use for education other than the Bible. Mother was preoccupied with making my father happy and surviving day to day with the hectic schedule Father demanded. Every spare penny was spent on freeing a slave, and every spare moment was spent in ministry or prayer. As a prostitute, I received a better education than I would have gotten from my parents.

Mama Ja bought picture books and lovely storybooks for me. I loved factual books as well. I was tutored with the best of classical education home school materials shipped from America. I was thrilled! My eager mind soaked up the wealth of information. I had a knack for languages. Mama Ja spoke English fluently and taught me Spanish, Korean, and three different Chinese dialects. For the entire time I was with Mama Ja, I was able to devote three hours a day to my studies. For that, I will be forever grateful. She also allowed me to study the Bible and bought many Bible study books in English. The upper echelon prostitutes would discuss the books with me, and I would explain what they did not understand.

I knew my father would not even look for me once they found my mother’s body. I knew he would not be able to accept me once I had been soiled. Christ’s love and acceptance would be fine for others, but he would never accept the blame for putting Mom and me in danger. I determined my life was with Mama Ja to be whatever she wanted me to be until the fourth month when reality set in.

Master Nahm was growing impatient and wanted to exploit my presence in his troupe. The mansion was in an exclusive area, and his stable catered only to high society. Though the clients were rich beyond comprehension and well educated, most were very superstitious. Mama Ja came up with an elaborate marketing plan to use me yet still protect me. I was billed as the Virgin Angel of Blessing who anointed the clients and the ladies for a price. I was to do nothing but sit in a special room, costumed in the most imaginary attire, say a blessing, and wait for the next couple.

The room was in the center of many rooms that spiked from my small area. Mama Ja spared no expense in decorating the space. Its music and lights could be adjusted to meet the desires or personality of the client. I sat on a throne with lights accentuating the glittery material of my costume and makeup. Two guards stood beside me, directing the activity, and protecting me from any client who wanted more than a simple blessing.

Soon, Master Nahm wanted more from me, and Mama Ja came up with another plan to keep me from actual prostitution. For an extra fee, I would not only bless the couple, but I would follow them into their room and sing songs of blessing for them until the act was finished. I refused, but only once. Yong-soon, another prostitute, who was only a year older than I, had become my friend. Master Nahm took Yong-soon and slit her throat in front of me. Mama Ja was furious, but he said the girl’s last test had come back positive for HIV, so she was done anyway. I was traumatized I had caused my friend’s death.

From then on, only in the special room did I have guards. I was watched through cameras. If I tried to hide my eyes from the intercourse taking place in front of me, I was threatened by Master Nahm. He knew I would never be the cause of another prostitute’s death, so my attention never strayed from the couples. At that point, my relationship with God and my spirit was protected by a phenomenon I have yet to totally dismiss. In off-work hours, I was Sina. During work hours, my mind coped by becoming a different personality named Angel. I have been told it is not a total split personality, because Sina partially knew what Angel was doing.

Eric’s interest in the woman rose. He wondered if he could document her personality split with the diagnostic equipment he used in the intricate brain surgeries he performed. He knew some studies had been done in this area, but he would love to experiment.

The women I worked with were masters of their craft. Each had a unique style and sensual device. All men who used them praised the women for their excellence. Their fame spread far and wide, but Master Nahm gave his girls secret weapons that were used on the clients.

Before each session officially began, each client was bathed by special personnel and unknowingly rubbed with mildly hallucinogenic oil that quickly soaked into his skin. The client was then given food that was doctored with another set of chemicals that made the client susceptible to suggestion. The woman who worked the patron would convince the client this company was the best, and whatever happened would be far above the competition due to the blessing of the Virgin Angel. The client was then wiped down so none of the bathing oil would rub onto the prostitute. The ensuing deed was usually short and very intense, and I would move on to the next couple. The charges for my services were exorbitant, and Mr. Nahm was content for a time.

I became a woman soon after my eleventh birthday. For whatever reason, genetic or otherwise, my breasts developed fully and above the normal size. A new scheme for monetary gain was hatched to keep me from full-on prostitution. I was injected with hormones, chemicals, and native medicines that caused me to lactate. For an outrageous fee, my milk was bottled and sold as Heaven’s Drink from the Virgin Angel. For an even greater fee, the client would suckle from one breast while the prostitute suckled from the other while I sang a blessing song. This way both partners would be blessed. It was amazing how this caught on. I was used by my brothel, loaned out to other brothels, and displayed for special functions as an added attraction. My handlers made millions through this ploy without me having to ever have intercourse. The downside of this is the question of whether I will be able to overcome my memories to ever nurse a child.

For three years, I was protected by Mama Ja, but Master Nahm thought of the ultimate moneymaker. By this time, my reputation as the Virgin Angel was firmly established. I was successfully traveling across Asia and Oceania blessing, singing, and nursing thousands of satisfied clients. Master Nahm’s marketing scheme was that I lose my virginity to the highest bidder, but my mate had to be a virgin as well. In a highly celebrated ceremony, filmed and watched by untold thousands of sexual deviants, I used the techniques I had learned to make Master Nahm thousands of dollars and a twelve-year-old boy very happy. It was not pleasant for me.

No longer a virgin, I was still a unique commodity to be used only by virgin boys, or so they claimed. Master Nahm advertised the Angel was necessary for young men to be blessed with a lifetime of exceptional ability. Young boys were brought by rich fathers who paid not only for their sons to be indoctrinated into sexual behavior but for an extra fee, the fathers were also allowed to watch as their sons lost their virginity. As Angel, I was very well trained and very satisfying to the young ones. Angel had done her job, and Sina tried