Alicia Kozakiewicz movie House of Horrors Kidnapped Innocence Lost


Alicia Kozakiewicz movie House of Horrors Kidnapped Innocence Lost

Kidnapped by a pedophile

Alicia Kozakiewicz was 13 when she slipped out of her Pittsburgh home to meet someone she chatted online. A nightmare followed. Now 27, Alicia made it her goal to shield other children from what she went through, and in many U.S. states had a statute named after her. That's her story in her own.

I remember the 2001 Christmas was great, so was the first half of New Year's Day 2002.

New Year was always my family's celebration day. We'd have a big meal—my mum would make pork and sauerkraut—and that year my mum, my dad, my brother, his girlfriend, and my grandmother were there, and these were the last peaceful moments of my childhood. Where I was Alicia.

Between dinner and dessert, I asked my mother if I could go and lie down. I said a stomach ache.

But what happened was I got up and slipped past the front door Christmas tree, and opened the front door to meet this guy I thought was my friend.

This wasn't at all in my persona. I was a kid extremely scared of the dark and hated the cold - I still really hate the cold - and I never went out alone after dark without an adult.

I recall walking up the street about a mile or so, the streets were coated in ice and no one was out. What I most remember is silence. How to quiet snow. There were no dogs barking, nothing but snow crunching beneath my feet. I remember standing at the corner, and that little voice finally spoke up—my intuition—and said, "Alicia what are you doing? This is really dangerous you need to go home."

I turned around and started walking back, but then I heard my name being called, and the next thing I knew I was in this man's car, and I instantly feared for my life.

Alicia Kozakiewicz

My childhood to that point was fantastic. My mum stayed at home for most of my childhood, so she was with me all the time, whenever I needed her, and so was my brother, nine years older than me.

My dad worked long hours, but he still left room for family time. So we were—and are—a very close family. My childhood was so enjoyable.

I recently moved my old home movies to digital and went through them. Looking back, I was a happy kid. I thought people sang like they did in Disney movies, I just thought that's how people lived, so I always sang to the trees or rocks or to my shoes because I thought that's how happy people were. And I was really saddened that the world wasn't like a musical where everyone dances and everyone sings.

My older brother introduced me to the internet. He always played online games, I think Diabolo was one. I wasn't interested in that particular game, but it looked like a board game, and I realized it was a great way to play these games with others. That's all I thought was.

At that time the internet was just entering the home, and my parents thought they had given me and my brother this wonderful gift. They spoke to me about "stranger danger" but there is a difference between a stranger you meet on the street and the stranger you meet online. People online may be strangers at first but you'll learn about them soon.

In 2001 and 2002, very few people educated children that the internet could be dangerous.

I got a screen name and online. My friends and I'd talk about it. It seemed like a while before kids knew that cyber bullying was a possibility, and it seemed like everyone was online. The most famous kids talked to the less popular kids. I felt safe.

There was one man, a boy I thought about my own age, I didn't know, and he was in all the stuff I was in. He listened to my words day and night, offering me advice. He was someone to lament and get comforted for eight or nine months before my abduction. Online grooming is successful.

He was the one I walked out for New Year's Day and abducted me in his car.

He squeezed my hand so tightly that I thought it was broken, and he barked on me. Stuff like, "Be good, be quiet!" If I didn't comply, he'd put me in the trunk.

He sped my street and past my building. I figured, "Maybe he'll just drive around the block." Then Maybe he'll just drive to the next neighbourhood." I noticed the street signs and they went from being very common names to names I couldn't remember being anywhere near my house.

After a while the car entered a toll booth and in my mind I remember thinking, "This is my chance, this is when I'm going to be rescued because this person in the booth is going to see a crying child and think, 'What is going on And call the police and this whole thing will be over."

But the man in the toll booth didn't see me or think something was wrong, and the car sped on.

I remember seeing the phone boxes from the window and thinking, "What if I could get to one of them, what would I say to my family? How could I get out of this, let them know that I'm in danger?"

There are no words to describe the fear and panic that this person could pull and kill me at any moment. He kept driving from my Virginia home in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, for about five hours. Finally, the car stopped, pulled me out of the car and dragged me into this building, pulling me down a flight of stairs that seemed to go on in my mind forever. I'm sure it was a flight or two, but it felt like an endless labyrinth.

When he had me in the cellar, a padlock door was on it and he took me inside. On the walls were all those devices my 13-year-old mind couldn't grasp.

He then removed my clothes and looked at me and said, "This is going to be really hard for you. It's OK, cry."

He then put a locking dog collar around my neck, dragged me upstairs to his bedroom and raped me. With this dog collar next to bed, he chained me to the floor. I was raped and tortured four days in that building.

I have to tell you that the response I get sometimes is incredible. Often people say, "You're so lucky, that's not that long." They've said that. I want to make it clear that by time you can't define pain, or what happened, it's how it affects the individual. That's how it hit them. If you're held hostage for four days or abused for years by someone you love, or molested on a bus for 15 seconds, it's the experience and suffering that determines it not the duration of time, not what actually happened.

Although I did my best to survive, no matter how humiliating or painful or disgusting, I had no power over my fate. When I fought him, I had a broken nose. And he'd already abducted a girl, made unspeakable things to me why would murder be something he couldn't do?

He said on the fourth day I'm beginning to like you too much. Tonight we're going to go for a ride." I knew there was nothing I could do. I knew he would kill me. He fed me for the first time in four days that day and left for work.

I remember crying and praying, praying and thinking about all the things I'd do if I'd be bigger, if I'd be a character in a superhero movie. I thought, "He's going to kill me, but I'm not going to go down without a fight and maybe I could win?" But then I remembered I'd lost several times. I lost all hope soon.

I thought a lot about my parents those days. I knew they were looking for me, loving me. I had no question that they'd find me. They could move mountains and do anything to keep me safe. I figured they wouldn't stop to find me. The question was whether I'm alive or dead. I wondered, "When was the last time that I told them I loved them? Did they know how much I loved them?"

I began acknowledging my own death. I've drifted into a dull state. But then I heard angry men pounding downstairs at the door. Since I'd lost all hope and I thought they'd kill me, I rolled under the bed to try to hide from them and remained as quiet as possible. I heard them running around the house quickly. I heard them screaming, "Clear! Clear! Clear! Clear!" Now I'd know exactly what that meant, but I didn't know at that time.

I must have made some noise because I heard a man yell, "Movement over there!" I saw boots coming along the bedside. A man told me to get out of bed and put my hands up. I recall pulling out that cold, heavy chain, trying to put my hands up but also trying to protect myself. I had no clothes. I watched a gun barrel down.

I thought, "This is when I'm going to die. This is it." Then the man turned around and I saw FBI on the back of his jacket, and all those law enforcement officers rushed into the room. They removed the chain from my neck and helped me. They released me. They gave me another shot at life. Those men and women are my angels.

When I was hostage, my kidnapper broadcast online abussing me. One of the viewers identified this terrible video as the little girl from the missing posters. It is important to remember that the larger majority of children are saved due to lost posters and warnings released on the internet, radio, TV, road signs, digital billboards, cell phones, etc.

If you notice a lost flyer, please be patient.

The audience went to a phone box, called the FBI, providing the abuser's screen name. Through this the FBI found his IP address leading me. It's a miracle. Essentially, one creature haunted another. I'm fortunate. Had those law enforcement officers stopped for coffee or broken down their motorcycle, I may not be with you now. He was scheduled to return home at 4.30pm, and the law enforcement arrived at 4.10pm. This is the ideal example why every second counts when a child is missing.

Even now, people are surprised to hear my story. When I was abducted in 2002, they were unable to grasp how this happened and I was groomed. Simply, they blamed the perpetrator, which unfortunately isn't any different from today's sexual harassment cases. There were supporters, however and I hope they know how much I appreciate their care and concern.

My family and I vowed to make a difference and save other kids and families. We found that a factor in this ordeal was that schools taught no internet safety education. After my own healing time at age 14, I started going to colleges, giving presentations, and sharing my story. Today nearly 14 years later, I continue my mission, share my story with people around the globe, and educate families on internet protection.

I work alongside Protect to ensure the passage of Alicia's Rule, named after me in all 50 U.S. states. Owing to a shortage of committed federal resources, fewer than 2% of known child abuse cases are prosecuted. Alicia's legislation provides the Internet Crimes Against Children (ICAC) Task Forces with a committed, steady stream of state-specific funding. By establishing this new revenue stream, Alicia's Law creates ongoing potential for child rescue teams—income that won't fall victim to yearly battles over or cuts to the general budget.

Alicia's legislation was passed in Virginia, California, Idaho, Kentucky, Texas, Tennessee, Hawaii, and Washington. We're working on Alicia's Law in Wisconsin, Maryland, and South Carolina.

I'm currently working on a forensic psychology master's degree and graduating in a few months (yay!). I expect to work with children and families affected by kidnapping or child sexual abuse.

I struggled with personal relationships for years. Suddenly, the most caring gentle touches may seem evil and dangerous. But the day I graduate, I get married (bigger yay!). My fiance supports my mission, he's a great man, but he's a great friend.

What's very important to remember, because it took me a long time to understand, is that rape is about power and influence, and love is never.

Alicia Kozakiewicz's kidnapper, Scott Tyree, pleaded guilty in 2003 to take a minor across state lines for sex and create sexually explicit images. He was incarcerated for 19 years and seven months.