Dart Center for Journalism and Trauma

 María is still running. She changes Dallas-area apartments every few months. She shuttles her four kids between school districts. She hides in the shadows to escape the man who has tried to control her for the past decade.

Forced into prostitution as a 12-year-old by her own mother, María was hurt by strangers and people she loved in Mexico. The knife scars on her back and shoulder narrate years of abusive relationships. That abuse continued when María came to the U.S. illegally in the mid-1990s.

Like Yolanda Méndez Torres, María (not her real name), now 30, was forced to live a life of secrecy, fear and uncertainty. But for undocumented children and teenagers, that life can be especially challenging, with worries about deportation, language barriers and preconceived notions about justice.

"They don't know their rights. They don't speak English. So it may be more difficult for them to find help," said Yolanda Eisenstein, legal director of the Human Rights Initiative in Dallas, which aids abuse victims.

In Latin America, where there are more than 190 million children, the rate of violence against kids is among the highest in the world, according to the U.N. secretary general's recently published Study on Violence Against Children. The study reports that throughout Latin America, more than 6 million children annually suffer severe abuse, and more than 80,000 die as a result of domestic violence. Sexual abuse of children is the least reported form of abuse. Eight out of 10 cases involve a father, husband or other relative.

Julia Alanen, director of the international division of the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children, said the international caseload of these young victims has grown from 1,000 open cases in January 2005 to 1,800 open cases this month. About 40 percent involve Mexico.

"Within the U.S., a lot of parents are undocumented, and they're fearful that if they contact any authority, they risk being deported," she said.

Sometimes these types of crimes go unpunished or are not penalized to the fullest extent in a child's native country. That, too, can deter a victim from seeking help. Depending on the state in Mexico, those convicted of rape could receive four to 20 years in prison, experts said. But that doesn't mean they will serve the entire sentence.

"The system is very corrupt," said Esther Chávez Cano, founder and director of Casa Amiga, a crisis center for women in Juárez, Mexico. "We try to convince victims to denounce the perpetrator, but we also tell them that there's a chance he won't be detained."

In Mexico, 21 minors were raped every day between 1997 and 2003, or nearly one per hour, according to a Child Rights Watch report published by UNICEF in Mexico. However, many rape cases are not reported. In Latin America, 2 million children are sexually exploited each year, most of them girls, according to the Inter-American Children's Institute, a children's rights group.

Juan José Salgado, former acting consul general of Mexico, who wrote a letter to the Dallas County district attorney's office regarding domestic abuse, said he's aware of the problem in Mexico, one he attributes to a lack of education.

Rural and poorer areas of the country, "where parents think daughters shouldn't go to school and where some mothers say they have to obey their husband," are especially susceptible, he said.

"We do see some change, but it's going slow," he said. "The change is happening in the middle class."

In more recent years, the country has launched radio and TV campaigns about the violence against women. In this country, a new Spanish-language radio campaign telling women here to seek help began airing in September on Spanish-language radio stations.

María's husband eventually was arrested, imprisoned and then deported. But he returned to the U.S. and, she believes, is looking for her. She's now living in North Texas, has her green card and is looking for work.

"I want to fly," she said. "I want to fly and never come back."

Paul S. Zoltan, a Dallas immigration lawyer, said these kinds of cases are getting more attention.

"Once upon a time, domestic violence lived and thrived in the shadow of social stigma," he said. "Nowadays, you have a people, regardless of any social stigma, who have a justifiable fear of authorities who would otherwise protect them.

"What is worse, the devil she knows – the abuse of an uncle – or face deportation and destiny?"