You think I have it all. Sure, I have food on the table and a lavish bed to sleep in. You just don’t see what I see. I should be greatful, I know. I have a beautiful garden and servants. You don’t hear what I hear. I should’nt complain, you’re right. I don’t need to work or sell. You don’t feel what I feel. You don’t see the violence of the man I thought would care for me. You don’t here the words...