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"We'll save the molesting for later. What else do you have? How about Beethoven? He doesn't get me quite as hot."I pointed to the cabinet that held most of the Beethoven pieces."Spring, how about Spring? We could try the Spring sonata." She opened the cabinet started to dig through the folders. I stepped to her side to help her search, and she grabbed my arm and gave an excited squeeze.She found the music and held the folder triumphantly aloft. "This will be perfect. I've worked on it before. It's Spring, get it? Just like us, just starting out." Her excitement was contagious."This will be so much fun. Even if I stink, you have to promise to carry me along." I'm sure you won't stink, and if you do, I'll stink too. We'll stink together." I couldn't believe those words were coming from my mouth. I'd always taken this kind of music so seriously. Always. The thought of just playing for the hell of it, just to have fun had never crossed my mind.We laid out as much of the music as we could. I woke up one morning and he had pulled the covers down off of me while I was asleep and he was holding the bottom of my t-shirt up so he could look at my panties.I beat the crap out of him and they took me out of that home as quick as I could pack my few belongings in my little suitcase. They put me right back in the halfway house for a couple of weeks and gave me some more halfhearted counseling.I guess they’re losing patience with me now, though. I was all but dragged out of my dormitory and shoved into the back of this car. The big, black, very scary social worker ragged on me for a half hour as he drove me to what he promised me was the last chance I’m going to get. I tried to act like I’m not afraid of him. But I am. I tried to act like I don’t care what they do to me. But I’m scared.My fear only increased as I looked through the window at the houses passing by. I can’t help but notice we’ve entered a pretty seedy area of town. When he pulled up in front of a large but very run.
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