Three. This is my number. It’s the exact sum of reasons I continue to go on. One: To strengthen my body. Make it strong. Make it a machine. Make it so that what happened before can never, ever, happen again. Two: To help others find their own strength so that what happened to me, what happened to
I wake up to a warm body draped along my side. I smile as the foreign feeling of happiness radiates in my chest. Everything comes rushing back as Rocky’s scent fills my senses. Not Olivia’s. My happiness bursts like a broken dam. Not because Olivia isn’t here. But because as I realized it was
My need for power came to me by accident. The need was real. It was overwhelming. It was consuming me. So we played a dangerous game of trial and error. What I could handle and what I couldn’t. It became apparent fairly quickly that I couldn’t handle much. But I liked this game because I
I had no idea when I met Linken Elliot that he would be capable of doing this to me. I was perfectly unhappy, living my miserable existence before he came along. I was fine humping strange men’s faces in dirty bar bathrooms. I was comfortable living like a hermit and drinking myself into oblivion.
