They hurt me, burned me, scarred me. Three months it took for the pro's to find me. Three months of torture, and even thought I am out of their grasp I can't stop. The feeling of a blade across my skin. A match to my scarred chest. I can't stop. I can't. People try and help me but none of them understand what I have gone through. All but one. He has scars of his own. His own cuts, his own burns, his own impurities. We are old that two wrongs don't make a right, but do two people who have been wronged do something right IMPORTANT NOTE This story is not for the faint of heart. Story includes -Cutting -Suicidal thought -Torture -Vivid and gory imagery