I had always thought of myself as a wallflower. Someone to be glanced over, ignored. And for the past 15 years of my life, it's worked just fine. Until the night. That's what we'll call it, the night. I to this day, wake in the middle of the night, tremors shaking my body. His face, hung over me. I feel the scars on my wrists where chains had once held me prisoner, and wonder why, why did it have to be me?
