Dear Diary, I woke up wet again. My t-shirt and my underwear were wet, but for different reasons. I have been having the same nightmare since I moved to this hell hole. I can still feel the pain and smell his breath. I can still see my mother’s face and hear her screaming, calling me a bitch and telling me to get out of her house while she was hugging my brother. I don’t know how I feel about anything anymore.
I am suppose to start my sessions with that lady named Ms. Betty this week...
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