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me.”
    I wish I could have too. But, the fact of the matter was that no matter what happened, it was all something I needed to do alone. I couldn't depend on anyone else to get me through the mess I’ve created of my life.
    “Star?”
    “Yeah, Paisley?” She slowly pulled away, standing next to the bed - giving me the much needed distance I craved at that moment. The next words would change all of our lives. As much as I didn't want to be the one to dish this news, I had to get it out in the open before he returned and flipped my life upside down again, just like he did on Thanksgiving.
    “It was Zane.”
    “Zane did that to you? The man who raped you in Florida is Chrome and River's brother?” She was dumbfounded. I really don't blame her because the moment he walked into Star's house days ago, I couldn't believe my eyes. I thought the universe was just playing a really cruel trick on me. Because in reality, if there is a God, which I am seriously starting to doubt,. why would he do this to me?
    Star's face morphed with disgust mixed with disbelief. Her beautifully bright blue eyes were clouded with rage and I couldn't help but wonder if this would come between her and Chrome.
    “Yes,” I whispered as my head hit the pillow again. I didn't want to get out of bed. I knew I had to. I knew deep down there was a fighter deep within me, I just didn't know how to channel her like Star had done. It was bred into us. Bloom genetics. Probably one of the only blessings to come from our shitty parents.
    “He’ll never touch you again, Paisley. I can promise you that.” Her words are stern and caring all at once. Protectiveness radiated through the room.I feel somewhat reassured. Almost as if she knows I need time to myself to continue processing the tragedy I call life; she rises from the bed and walks for the door.
    “Paisley, don't close me out,” Star begs before exiting the room. I can hear the slow creek of the staircase as she makes her way back to the main floor of the house. I beg for sleep to take me again, but every time I close my eyes, all I can see is him. His eyes. His mouth. That ugly ass scar.
    I throw a pillow across the room in rage. All this negative energy is eating me alive. Mixed with the snow and cold is just too much. I need something productive to do. I need to get my mind off of everything. Zane, and everything that goes along with him. River and whatever fucked up non-relationship we have. Myself, and my own actions when I learned of my pregnancy.
    When I was younger, I would write poetry. But, I was never any good at it. I look around the room for a pad and a pen. Unfortunately, there is nothing. Do people even use that stuff anymore? Everything is so damn digital; I’m surprised it isn't extinct.
    My gaze lands on the modern white bookshelf in the corner of my bedroom. Rows of books line each shelf. Various titles of romance, and suspense. Who knew Star was a reader?
    The idea hits me like a frying pan to the face. The only way I can heal is to tell my story. And I do.

    I sit crossed legged on the large bed with the laptop Star bought me for my birthday open in front of me. I have a document open and waiting while I engage in a staring contest with the screen. Do I think it will purge my thoughts for me? Surely not.
    I take a deep breath and close my eyes. I think back to the day I left home - fled from my parents and everything I wanted to escape the first time I left Woodstock: Their nasty lifestyle. Being treated like a maid. Seven's creepy ass brother, Blue, lurking around in the shadows. Sex, lots of sex that I wasn't having. My bitchy little sister. Heartbreak at the hands of a boy in high school. The money I stole from my parent's hiding spot in the cookie jar.
    Every word I type out feels like a world of burden being lifted from me. The sentences flow along the pages as my fingers keep up the rapid beat on the keys. I feel lighter when I am finished with what I call chapter one: the