You could see the sadness, in the deep wrinkles under her eyes that were memories of years long spent. Her eyes had a dull grey sheen to them, as though not even the sadness could penetrate those deep unforgivable eyes. She had live through emotional plagues that were buried deep inside her very soul. But even her soul was hidden. Facin loss and betrayal at every corner of life's journey, not even the bliss innocence of the young that surrounded her could give her the slightest hope at happiness. She was only a kid. She was a child that suffered through hardships of abuse and torture of those who she thought loved her. She was only 11 years of age and had the wisdom of a dying person. She had lived through not only physical abuse but her mind had been tortured so that she was on the brink of insanity. She looked out of the window of her life and saw people whistling merrily to unknown tunes that would never be learned. Jamie was too far gone.

Jamie sighed, looked out the window and down at the cracked cement street. There were kids playing jump rope and she wanted to too but she knew she couldn't. She stared at them for a long time, but not really seeing them. She thought of her past bleak life, a life full of black and emotions. She didn't have emotions anymore. All she had was her memories that asphyxiated her brooding thoughts of turmoil. She suddenly turned and came face to face with a stranger. She was grey, and had deep eyes of nothing. Her limp hair was a moldy brown that had layers of shiny grease that bordered hollow cheek bones and lips emaciated and tight. Her shoulders were in a permanent slouch, looking without hope, and she wore a baggy green t-shirt and a pair of shapeless jeans that had a crust of mud on them. Then there were the bruises. All over her arms and legs, and even her back, and there was a long burgundy cut on her neck that was a long time ago scar, but it still hurt with the past. She smashed her white knuckles into the stranger and felt the crack of the mirror crumpling, and cracking under her fists. Her cheeks felt wetness and her mouth saltiness and with the tears came a comfort. Her tears abided the pain, disinfected the heart, and washed away her sins. But also came the guiltiness of showing emotion so Jamie rubbed the pain back, and her eyes once again became dry. A knock on the door interrupted her and she felt no compassion for the person awaiting her.

"Get out here Jamie. NOW" it was her dad Peter of course…probably with one of his crack whores.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," she plastered on a smile that could fool even the dead and slowly opened the door. With his muscled arm splayed around a tall gangly woman with bleach-blonde hair her dad beckoned her over.

"This is Maria she and I are going to be gone most of the night. You can fix yourself supper and don't stay up too late." Fake kindness oozed from his voice as he tried to fane concern and love towards his suffering daughter. But Jamie knew what would come later…if all went bad with "Maria".

"Okay, bye dad." And she went back into her room and shut the door carefully. A I love you hadn't been pronounced on either of their lips for years, but that's how Jamie thought all families were. Without love and without hope. Sprawling down on the sagging bed Jamie curled into a tight ball and let fatigue consume her.

"THAT STUPID BITCH!" rage consumed Peter as Jamie blearily sat up. Rubbing her eyes vigorously she stood up and stretched. Knowing that the worst would be over soon if she went out to face him now Jamie let the door open a crack and slowly slipped out into the hallway. Peter was seated at the kitchen table a beer grasped in his shaking hands. His eyes were bloodshot and his hair was matted with sweat. Looking up he saw Jamie and said,

"Get over here whore." Fear consumed Jamie as she thought of what might happen next. Timid steps brought her toward her enraged father and she tried hard to keep her breath even. I fist met her cheek with a resounding bam and pain erupted in her cheek. But shock kept her from reacting and she just stood there feebly. "He's never hit my face before…oh crap what about school tomorrow." Similar thoughts swirled through her turbulent mind like a spinning top creating dizzying images. The next fist hit her ribs and this time she felt something crack. Standing up, Peter gripped her shoulders and shook her violently. Slowly prying fingers started to finger Jamie with harsh force. Moving down he slowly stroked her blossoming breasts and pinched them hard. Another punch in the stomach later and he had reached the buttons of her jeans. She stood there frozen praying for it to end...please god don't let him do this, please. But he didn't stop. She couldn't move if she wanted to live. Trying to think of other things Jamie was brought back with the labored breathing of Peter. Her bottom half was completely naked and Peter was now reaching for his belt buckle. Forcing her onto the flaccid couch with sharp springs poking through the puke colored fabric he began to rub her.

"Why me, why? He's never gone this far before." Pushing himself into her an extreme pain that could never be forgotten exploded everywhere in Jamie. Begging him to stop her voice sounded so timid. He just pushed harder. Blood started to gush from the wounds inside of her and he pulled himself out in disgust. Rolling her limp body off the couch Peter kicked her with enough vigor to inflict serious damage. Again and again he kicked and hit her not stopping until her figure couldn't move a finger. Realizing what he had done to her he fled.

Hours later a groaning Jamie opened her bruised eyes. Struggling to sit up she almost laughed at the irony of the situation. Helpless again, it just is a vicious circle. Breathing was so difficult and the light that seeped through the window told her that it was late afternoon. Moving was even more impossible than breathing so Jamie trusted the one thing that seemed that it hadn't been affected, her voice. A shrill scream emitted from her voice like a banshee's cry of victory. Except you could still hear the fear. She kept screaming on and on until her throat was swollen with exertion. She slowly slipped into the land where dreams can come true and anything is impossible. "Dreamland is my favorite place" was the last bitter thought that surpassed her thoughts before unconsciousness invaded her like a drug.

The intoxicating smell of bleach invaded Jamie's nostrils as she felt the starch of warm sheets against her sore body. Opening her eyes cautiously she realized that she was in a hospital room. Confusion rattled her as she racked her brain trying to remember the previous day's events…to come up with nothing. A gray haired doctor entered the room with a smile stretched across her wrinkled face though f right could still be seen.

"Hi there honey. My name is Dr. Matthews though you can call me Dr. Matt. Can you tell me your name?"

"Jamie, my name is Jamie Ploy. What happened to me?" her throat felt scratchy as she tried to speak with dignity and trying not to look into the female doctor's eyes.

"Sweetie, Janie your neighbor found you found you beaten and raped to a bloody pulp in your apartment. You're going to need to talk to the detectives and tell them what happened."

"Oh my god…" memories started to flood Jamie as brief flashes of the previous night swamped her swirling mind.