He turns to look at her as he fumbles with the lock. A grin spreads across his face, revealing cracked, stained teeth. He is a smoker. She's had nicer-looking ones; businessmen, fathers, teachers. Tonight's different though. Serves her right for working the wrong side of town. It was all she could do. She needed the money. Her father and mother never cared. Where was her brother to save her now? How had she become this disgusting mess of a human? Take the needle. It'll help you forget, her body says. No, her mind argues. She still wants to be a little princess, holding tea parties with her dolls. But she is here now. Naked and cold. Thin from starvation. Sick from the streets.

He smells foul as he climbs on top of her. He pumps away inside her. It is her job. Make him happy. A little touch here, a moan there. She'd rather have each of her fingernails slowly ripped off. She can't stand it anymore. She hates this life, but she can not go back to the old. There's only one thing left to do.

His pants are hanging half off the dirty motel bed, a small knife in the pocket. She reaches slowly and grasps it. He grunts loudly, and explodes all over her as she raises the sharp blade to her wrists.

Warm red blood mixes with the sticky white substance. Everything is blurring as the drunk man panicks.

"Mommy," She cries, "Mommy, I'm sorry."