I will not write about it. I promise I will not write about it.

I will not talk about it. I will never talk about it.

I will refer to it in passing, I will refer to it obliquely. Have I mentioned it? I will not repeat it.

I will not be destroyed by it. I will not be scarred by it. I will not think about it.

I will not. I have not. I cannot.

I will not let you touch me. I will not touch you. I will not do this. I will not let you do this. I will not be led. I will not be tricked.

fuck you! fuck you and your lies and your words and your orders! fuck you with your smell and the light draped across the floor so leisurely and the story you told me and the way my stomach my stomach drops so heavily and the light being eaten by the dark and the blackness in my head and the way i feel right now all weightless and floating in this memory. fuck you! you walked away from it and the gun in your hand i hope you felt it the darkness and i’ve spent my entire life in it and i’ve never ever escaped it

This time, I will not do it. I will not be spoiled by it.

This time.

I am not prey.

This time, I will walk into the room. I will walk into the room myself. I will walk into the room, I will walk into the room with the gun and I will tell the story. The story ends in darkness.

I will never, ever talk about it. I haven’t written about it. I cannot. I will not. I have not.

So what do you want to know? You wanna know something about me, ok, here goes.

I like to fuck. I like to fuck, I like to get fucked, I like fucking, I fuck up sometimes. Start counting now – let's see how many times I can say it, right? I would venture I make it into the double digits pretty fucking soon, just keep listening.

I'm pretty adventurous, I guess. When I say I like to fuck, I mean, I like to fuck a whole goddamn variety of people. Boys, girls, trannies, post-up, pre-op, leather daddies, business bitches, twelve year old boy whores from Singapore, whatever. The best fuck I ever had was a tranny named Samantha. The most beautiful girl I've ever met – tits out to here, heart-shaped lips, and the softest skin you'll ever touch - but with a dick like you wouldn't believe. I mean, this girl was hung. It was pretty extravagant.

Have I ever been in love? Fuck that. Who needs it? I've had feelings before, I guess. But what are feelings, anyway? Near as I can tell, feelings just complicate things, and complication leads to pain, always, always, always. And then, sometimes there's blood, and you're left with scars that you can't help but see whenever you accidentally turn your head...anyway, whatever. Let's move the fuck on, shall we?

I've been running around since I was pretty young, I guess. I think I started when I was about thirteen. As for when I lost my virginity, well that's a joke – was it when I was four and my uncle wanted to have some fun with me, or when I was nine and dear old mom's new boyfriend figured I needed to be broken, like I was a goddamn horse? Doesn't matter. All I know is, I got a taste of real sex when my first boyfriend slipped three fingers in my cunt and made me suck on them afterwards. That's when I knew what I wanted – something raw, something real. Pure fucking sex.

Yeah, there's more to me than that, but you asked the question. You see me, right? I'm wearing fishnets – well, there's your first clue, Sherlock - and hooker boots up to my ass, so you had to know what I was about. Stop drooling, bitch. Your hands are shaking, I can see them from here. You may as well come into the shadows, with me.

If you want me, here I am.

Hi! It's so nice to meet you. I love meeting new people, it's so interesting. Oh, look! No, up at the sky, do you see that? That cloud looks like...something, I can't quite catch it...it's almost like this teddy I had, when I was a little girl, it was a lovely white teddy named Norman with these little black buttons for eyes. Except the buttons kept falling off, and they were sewed back on so many times his little face was covered in all these funny holes with stuffing poking out. Norman was made of that fabric, do you know what it's called, terry-something? The stuff towels are made of. He was my best teddy, I think. Except I also had this elephant, she was purple with green dots and a corduroy trunk, I can't remember her name, what was it? I really like the feeling of corduroy, do you know what I mean? It's an interesting fabric, such soft lines, and swooshy when you walk so it doesn't last long at all. Although of course my elephant's truck – what was her name? - didn't go for walks, that doesn't make sense, but I still wore it out fast running my hands along it, I like textures a lot, if you can't already tell. This dress that I'm wearing is made of silk, it feels so nice. I feel like a grown-up, a bit, when I wear this dress.

What? Oh, sorry. What was the question again? Oh, Lilith, yeah, I've met her. She's a nice girl. I don't think she realizes how lovely she is, really; she tries to cover up those magical eyes with silly masks and that pirate look she loves so much, but she's like a little pixie to me. I don't think she likes me much, but that's okay. I think she's sweet.

Oh look what I found! Would you like a candy? It's a peppermint swirl candycane twirly candy. It's really delicious, here, try one. It reminds me of Christmas, don't you think? It smells like Christmas, all minty and red and green swirly sweet...I think Christmas is my favourite holiday all of, how about you? Halloween? You sound like Lilith. I love holidays, they are all so wonderful, there's such a sense of possibility in the air during holidays! On Valentines day everything is pink and red and so soft, the air smells like cinnamon, and Easter tastes like chocolate eggs and half-bitten chocolate bunny ears and fluffy clouds. Of course, I don't know what clouds really taste like, but don't you imagine they are made of pink sweethearts and marshmallows? Oh, clouds, right...I think my elephant's name was Lilly. Or maybe Eve.

Sorry. What was the question again?