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Everyone has their secret. That thing that they can never speak to anyone, ever. I have one. I've only told two people of the pain I had to live with. One of them I don't speak to as much as I would like, the other one... well, I don't know about the other one. This was the first person I had told, ever. I mean, ever. I didn't even think what had happened was real until I said it. Whenever I try to think about it, I get tired. I get sleepy, as though my mind is shutting down, as though I'm trying to forget. But I can't, I know I can't. Sometimes I don't even think it happened. Like right now, I'm trying to pretend as though it didn't happen. It's working a bit, working even better than I would think. I dreamt it, I thought about it, I didn't happen, it wasn't real. But I know it's real. I know it. And I don't know what to do. It's the reason why I will be lonelyl, afraid to get close to anyone. I'm scared of what will happen to me. I just don't know what to do.