She turns me on my back, limbs tied to the ends of the bed frame. She holds the knife to my neck, grazing my skin. Threatening to cut me from ear to ear. Before I had time to speak, it was already clear. I close my eyes, not even a whimper. A sea of memories. A life of shame. A gloomy presence crawls from the corner. Gathering behind her. Entering her body. Tears pour from her eyes as she stares into the void. Her skin turns pale as the room grows darker. I feel her anxiety. I feel her agony. I feel her desire to find her pain a new home in me.