. my hands instinctively go up to my face feeling the silky texture of the cloth over my eyes. Your voice finally breaks the stillness... "Did I tell ...ou you could move?" I shiver courses through me. "No, Sir" ...and with that one sentence, I realize that this is a "no-nonsense" side of him that I haven't experienced. "Don't move, and don't speak, unless I tell you that you can. Understood?," he says. "Yes, Sir," I reply, and I feel my blouse being unbuttoned, my un-protesting hands are at my. A life that, that by contrast, is so different than what I have now. I can not hope for this to be as I would like it. Doing so would mean not considering you and your situation. So instead I attempt to get through the day as best I can. I muddle through. I struggle to maintain my composure each and every minute of my day. A day that drags on and on and gets harder and harder to get through. Each day I wonder. Each day I tell myself. I tell myself that this it is for the best. That it can’t be. More

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