In fact it was a complete collection oflingerie, mother's lingerie to be precise from when she was a young girlto adolescence. I was then barely twelv... but already I was feeling thefirst stirrings of my latent sexuality, though I knew not what it was atthe time. These beautiful garments fascinated me, so shiny, pretty anddelicate. I picked some out and held them against my naked body andturned to an old mirror that was at the end of our large attic. For amoment I was stunned. Just that piece of. Joey hurt me more times than I care to remember. I cried enough tears to fill a man-made lake; those adolescent years were some rough times. The attention he offered was just enough to keep me holding on, enough for me to remain liking and caring about him instead of wanting to leave and hating him for the hurt he caused me. What a naïve adolescent I was, so forgiving. Now I am older and wiser and oh, how much I despise Joey and men like him. However, perhaps I do owe him some thanks. Joey. More

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