As she laid there in the dim lit room, wrist scarred with the blade from his razor. She took another pill and felt herself drifting away from the world she didn't want anymore. Panic slowly creeped in as her breath became faint- still she was calm. This is what she wanted. She needed an escape from what they took from her. From what they did. The pill tastes bitter, it burns her tongue. The taste reminds her of how she feels daily. Numb and sick. The room starts to fade and she feels her heart racing, her mind slowing down to where she can pass out. This is the rush she craves now. The unknown. The scary fact that she may not wake up from the high. Sometimes she wonders if she really does even want to wake up. They took everything from her. The memories of him drown her every night. The lies she told- the images of them fucking- they suffocate her. She takes another pill. This one clearly isn't strong of for tonight's break down. The pill almost tastes sweet this time. Sweet because she can finally start to feel the high kick in. She's fading, faster than normal but slower than she wants she looks up at the ceiling and notices she has tears running down her face.. she traces the scars on her arms before finally getting to

To be continued ....