“I steal one glance over my shoulder as soon as we are far from the foreboding luminance of the neon glow, and it is there that my stomach leaps into my throat. Squatting just shy of the light and partially concealed by the shade of an alley is a sinister silhouette beneath a crimson cowl, beaming a demonic smile which spans from cheek to swollen cheek.”

“His hand is cool on my cheek as he paints a tear beneath my left eye, dark blue and swollen with sorrow.”

“On the left side of my cheek a row of crusted scabbed stitches hold a deep 1 inch-long gash together. My nose is bent and swollen beneath its bandage and red lines streak from my nostrils. There are black and yellow bruises beneath both eyes, there is blood both wet and dry everywhere." (James Frey)”

“Everything is on fire. My cheeks my hands the pit of my stomach and I'm drowing in waves of emotion and a storm of fresh rain and all I feel is the strenght of his silhouette against mine and I never ever ever ever want to forget this moment. I want to stamp him into my skin and save him forever”

“This,” he ran a finger down my lips lightly, as more tears fell on my cheeks, “…is over.”

“I am a canvas of my experiences, my story is etched in lines and shading, and you can read it on my arms, my legs, my shoulders, and my stomach.”