I was only twelve years old when you took my soul, hands around my wrist grasping to hold,
I glare into your eyes and beg you to stop, pure evil stares back at me remaining on top.
I try to scream yet my voice seems to be lost, so I try to escape this nightmare at any cost.
Failing to get away all I could do was stay there and lay.
As the pain courses through my body and my life flashes before my eyes, I question, how did I get here?
How could I welcome my own demise?