It was like a dog without a name or a fish without water, perhaps a troublesome teenage girl without a friend, without a place to call her home. It's a feeling you want to go away, one in which you sit and one in which you pray, but it sticks and sticks like glue to paper, it sticks and sticks like nothing greater. You try to pull it off but it just ends up tearing, tearing through everything that you've worked to make right. It's like a molten plastic attached to human flesh. You feel like a neon in a fish tank being stalked by shark. But who is the shark? For I am Christine.
She, a young girl walks this shadow everyday. People point, people laugh as she walks down the halls, they don't see her good for they only see her faults. They don't call her by name, but instead, 'that's the girl who got raped.'
Deep down she wants to cry but like a miracle keeps her head held high, she knows what happened and pulled out that gun she tried to use almost one year ago. She was going to finish what she had started. This time, no one was around to stop her, which held her beliefs that, 'no one cares,' and 'no one would notice.' With these thoughts in mind it made the decision easier, for Christine to pull the trigger.
Helpless and hopeless she looked to the heavens, 'I don't belong here God, I belong in hell, for my helplessness sickens me and I have no help.' She placed that gun to her head and that would be the end.