“Come back here. And stop covering yourself.” “What is she doing here?” “Because you wouldn’t talk to me, Ishmael,” Julie said. “But...you have to because nothing is what you think.” I stood there in front of them. I was conscious of my nakedness in front of Julie, shame burning my skin. But I didn’t fight it. I’d given up. I accepted that I was now only an object to be used and degraded by the one person in the world whose respect I craved. The monsters battling inside my head sneered. I took. When I put it on, it fit me the same as it did when my brother gave it to me for Christmas. Maybe a little tight because I’d gained a few pounds. But it did fit. I had to laugh, the ‘bullet hole’ was still there. It was a drop of battery acid that had burned a little hole in it right at my chest and I’d affectionately called it my bullet hole. I was one tough cookie to survive that one.It was only about a half-mile into town and everything was like I remembered from back in the eighties: cars. More

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