Fifteen years. The number of normal every-day life. One day. The number of time when my life suddenly took a 180. 8000. The number of miles I was taken away from my home. Two. The number of parents I will never see again, Two weeks. The number of weeks I lived with kidnappers, rapists, and murderers. Three times. The number of times I lost my innocence to three different men. Four months. The number of months I lived a semi-normal but hectic life with practically strangers. Two. The number of children I carried Two. The number of times I was kidnapped. One week. The number of weeks I was held hostage. Thirty. The number of times I probably passed out or fainted. One hundred plus. The number of times I cried and felt sorry for myself. Six months. The number of months I waited until I got to see my children. Thirty seconds. The number of seconds it took before my life fully crumbled before my very eyes. A moment. How long it took for it all to start over again. Save Them, Please? *Sequel to 'Help Me, Please?*

They say the Olympics are every athletes dream, and once you're in you've pretty much got it made for your career in that sport. The Olympics are a lot of hard work though. The audience just see's the glitterly costumes and gracefulness on ice of the ice skaters, and the snowboarders doing a flip and making it lot easy, and also the hockey players taking hard falls and hits but getting up like it didn't hurt them at all. What the athletes see though are hour after hour of training for months just for maybe one or two five minute performances, depending on how far you get. But even after those early mornings and long nights of work and being so tired you feel you might die, its all worth it in the end. All the training pays off when you get to perform on an Olympic stage.

maybe he can help me touch.