I could feel the spring of the couch dig into my cheek as he pushed me down, harder, harder, HARDER.

Done. Thank God.

So dirty that I scrub until I bleed, but it was good, right? Right.

It happened again, and again, and again.

Different man, same story.

So dirty, scrub, scrub, SCRUB.

A strangled cry. The smell of burning flesh pierced my nose. Blue feet, no breath. No, no, no, NO.

A cry, a...