Little Lady // Erik Durm

Its cold, the aching feeling in my body. I was tired, so tired, I couldn’t take it anymore. I didn’t want to do this anymore. But I didn’t know what else I was supposed to do. How do I face the world, when I have no dignity for myself. I tremble every time they're gone. I can’t look at myself in the mirror. I cringe at the sight of my body, the bruises between my legs.

I didn’t want to do this, I wanted to stop it. He died, I should be okay. I should be able to stop this stupid job. But I didn’t know how to stop, do I ignore the calls? Tell them I don’t do those kind of jobs anymore? How do I get help? Who will help me, if everyone I know is dead?