When I first saw Willie Pickton on the news, in 2001, I recognized him right away and the alarm bells started going off. The police had a hotline, and they asked women who had any information to call.

At first, I was like, "nah" - That's the denial part. You so desperately don't want to believe you walked that same path.

I called the hotline and said, "About 6 years ago I was sent to a trailer on a farm and I remember the pigs. Did the trailer the police search have pigs in the bedroom?"

They said yes. That's when it really hit me that I could have died. I might not have been working the streets like the women who died, but I was still sent to that place.

*****

I decided to escort when I was 21-or 20. At the time I didn't want to work a minimum wage job; I had run out of my student loans and got kicked out of school. And I was having a lot of sex.

Even as a little girl, I was exposed to sex. I found pornos in the den. At six years old, when you're turned on, you start developing, and when women are objectified, it confuses a child. You learn your worth is tied to sex. There was a girl in my neighborhood who took it upon herself to "educate" me. And then there was also a huge concern about money in my family and over the notion of being self-supporting. My family had their troubles, but we weren't unusual.

So, in 1995, I was working for an escort agency when a guy called up and said they wanted a girl. The agency sent me to a trailer in Coquitlam. I'd be paid $250 for an hour and my driver waited outside.

At 20, I hadn't done cocaine yet. When I showed up, there was a lot of cocaine. Like measuring cups of cocaine-mountains of cocaine, just sitting there. And the pigs. Stuffed pigs, piggy banks, pig figurines - all over the bedroom of the trailer. But it wasn't a pig roast or anything like that.

Just Willie and his girlfriend were there. Part of being an escort is being involved with couples. His girlfriend was blonde and skinny. She said nice things to me like, "You're so pretty."

And then while she was in the bathroom, Willie would say stuff like, "I wish you were my girlfriend."

Every 20 minutes, they'd offer me another bump [of cocaine], but it was always "no thanks," because at that time, drugs still scared me.

I was expected to have sex with both of them, but I had my own rules. No kissing and no touching my private parts.

My first impression of Willie was he seemed nice. I mean, he was dirty and smelly, don't get me wrong, but he didn't act like a serial stalker. I've met men much worse than Willie Pickton.

Willie kept asking me to stay longer than an hour. "I'll pay you," he kept saying, but I said no and made it clear I had my driver outside waiting for me.

Sure, it was scary, and I was scared. Something didn't feel right. They'd been drinking. It wasn't a nice, clean place. Maybe I wouldn't have gone, but at the time, I didn't know how to say no and I didn't want to get in trouble with the agency. But I didn't like being there at all.

The emotions really come afterwards when you're alone with yourself. I hated myself. It's all very nice when you're in a hotel with a gentleman. It's quite another when you're with these smelly people in a trailer.

****

I don't know if Willie killed all those women. I think it was more the drugs. With the amount of cocaine that was there, those women easily could have overdosed. Willie wouldn't want to call the police, but it's not the same as someone who cuts them up for fun. I know it's sick, but I can just see him thinking, "uh-oh, she's not waking up," and then not wanting to tell anyone. It's a deeper problem. It happens a few times and he can't let go. I don't know if he ended a life. I didn't feel physically threatened for the hour I was there. Then again, there's a part of me that could see him keeping people captive. I don't know what he was like three hours later. I just don't know. I haven't heard Willie's side, but I'm sure he's feeling pretty pinched at the moment.

I'm angrier at the police for not keeping track of the women for 20 years. They're culpable. They figured it was just another overdose. But if a woman from a good family goes missing from the Westside, it's a really big f**ng deal. It's society's illness, really.
And if the women overdosed, it's still not their fault. It's just the sickness looking for a place to happen. The women had families and their own remorse. They didn't want to come home. Addiction has so much shame. They fell so far down the social scale, that there was little left to catch.

I've wondered, why them? Why not me? I'm no different than them. Maybe some of them were looking out for me from the other side - I don't know. I wish there was some way to catch the girls when they were 10 years old-to show them that it's okay to struggle.

It's my six months today. Six months clean. I'll probably go to a couple meetings and then I have a platonic dinner tonight. It's funny-Usually it was party time when I was on a dinner date. I used to think if a man bought me dinner, I had to have sex with him. But tonight it's just platonic. Not dating is part of sobriety.

Being in a 12-step program is really helpful. I'm at Step-4 where you look at your resentments and determine where you set the ball rolling. It's a way of looking at your behavior and seeing if that behavior has really gotten you anywhere.

I can't even look at pig figurines now. But this is part of my journey. I got sober and found humility. I found that I could actually have a life. I make $1000 a month now where I used to make $1000 a week. But I know as long as I show up, everything is going to be okay. I don't have to worry about paying my bills. There's no self-loathing and no fear. It's a huge sense of accomplishment.