Entry 1

I can hear them. All the screams of terror and the fright in the young ones eyes. It has only been a week but it feels like years. Everyday a prepared routine.

Entry 5
It has been a month and the rapes  are beginning to intensify as the younger inexperienced clientel arrive. As I lay in my cot the pain reminds me nothing is alright.

Entry 8

The storm of the younger clientel has become diluted as the older folks start again. Summer is arriving and they say around here that they are having jobs available for the behaved. This may be my shot to get away.

Entry 10

The first day of work was just like expected. Walking around with only a apron on serving young and old as a waiter. The groping and pinches are sadly have no effect on me and angers them.

Entry 12

The Ringleader found out about my problem and is now allowing them to punish me any way they sought fit. The others try comfort  and give pitty but I don't need pitty you yanks . I need away the hell of here.

Entry 36

This may be the last you hear of me my dear friend. This is my last time knowing the feel of a the wind, the chill of the concrete walls surrounding me. The final time I am to endure my personal hell. I will never see the yanks, the Ringleader, the perverted old men and young little fetus men. At my final momment on this planet I thought the last thing I would thing about was family. Well my family sucks arse. But somehow as I write this last goodbye. I think back to a person who would made me feel spectacular. Feel like I was worth something even if it was just a few minutes I would love to feel that same thing again with the man, I am sounding like a bloody girl now but I just want to see Zane again maybe I will see him one day but

How would a devil like me ever see an angel like him?