In dreams of blood and pain, she finds herself yet again a victim of ones she dared to trust, blinded by a guise of friendship to their all consuming lust.
The shadows of her life are lost within her hearts bottomless cold sea, and no one ever knows the pain that burns within her memory. The pain of innocence lost and trust broken, far beyond boundaries that were known but never spoken.
Years later the violation pain still raw and bright, she finds herself crying razor gripped tight, raking it across her wrist with all her might. The pain of living more than she can stand, she feels relived as the blade falls from her hand. Consciousness fading like the setting sun, the woman drops into darkness unloved by anyone.
A light strikes her eyes and she awakens in a bed, mystified and appalled that she is not yet dead, a wave of uncertainty washing over her mixed with dread. Feeling the stitches and staring in shock at the stranger in white, the broken willed woman sobs in fright.
The lady cr