I remember him staring down at me as he hurt me….you know as he….oh God he raped me….I thought I was going to die….’ And the girl started to...cry again. Kelly reassured her, probing to try to get more information and slowly she pulled out the story from the girl about the assault. How he had taken her into the warehouse, then suddenly started hitting her, slapping her and calling her names, Bitch, cow, cunt. He had ripped at her clothes and thrown the poor girl to the floor, forcing her legs. I was alsoparanoid, I wondered if my mother had somehow discovered the type offetish stories I was reading. On the other hand, in a more logical frameof mind I viewed that as highly unlikely since I had never printed any ofthe stories and my mother is terrible at using computers. My motherbarely knows how to check her E-Mail, that she could find Fictionmaniawas out of the question. The pressure was becoming too much to bear, Ihad the urge to escape from my living situation. I had gotten a new. More

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