Itís two a.m. I donít sleep around this time. I sit in my bathroom lost in my thoughts. I wake up crying in the middle of the night. You see, Iíve had nightmares since my teen years. My father is to thank for that. Victims will never forget. Because of him, Iím sick.

The house is quiet tonight. I felt my body tremble. The quiet only makes things worse. Iím left in my thoughts then. Sometimes, I hate my mind. Hate the thoughts that come with it. I feel so guilty. My job makes it worse. All those men. All of their hands on me. I pretend to enjoy it all.

I shook my head violently. I want to cry now. All of those men. They just use me. Use me and forget I ever exist. But, I canít complain. I use them all the same. I try to feel pretty with them. But instead, I feel worse about myself afterwards. That hole just gets worse and worse. Iím scared of falling in. But, what if I already have and I havenít realized it either?

I shook my head hard. No! I donít want to die! I mean, I used to. But nowÖ No! No!

My cheeks feel wet. I reach up and realize Iím crying. I shut my eyes. Iím so fucked up, I thought. I open my eyes and look up at the ceiling. I feel sick about myself again. I bit down on my thumb.

Help me. Help me. HelpÖ meÖ

I fell on the floor in my tears. SaveÖ meÖ

My whole body went still.

Waste by Smash Mouth on Grooveshark