Warning: The following scenes are a bit sensitive and may be deemed explicit.

I can’t believe how much time had passed. But I was living on top of the world.

It turns out Standford really meant business. I was up for the biggest roles on the screen.

I had just finished a Broadway show and my star just kept shining brighter each time.

I should have been feeling like the whole world was at my feet. But I wasn’t. Some part of me felt empty and I just wanted that feeling to go away.

Oh, Eliza, you are going to blow it.

It is time to be happy.

But who was I kidding? I just couldn’t shake the nightmares.

Each time I closed my eyes I saw him.

The monster who raped me!

Damn it Eliza let it go!

Let it be!

I needed to get a hold of myself but each time I tried it became harder for me to shake the feeling it would happen again.

I wasn’t fond of the styles of dresses they chose for me.

Standford wanted me to look my absolute best. But the dresses were always tighter and shorter each time.

I couldn’t help but feel like a piece of meat surrounded by a bunch of men whose only interest was in my body.

I felt like a puppet, following orders and going with what they wanted me to do.

Then came the day I was asked to do a photo shoot.

Everything started out as normal, but nothing could have prepared me for what they wanted out of me.

“Topless?” I asked.

“Darling, calm down!”

“Stanford, I am not posing topless!”

“Eliza, please, darling. These shots will be tasteful. I promise you!”

“I just can’t Standford.”

I began to cry and shake.

After I did that Standford came to me. He took me to the back room.

“Eliza, please darling. Trust me.”

He patted my back and then handed me a glass of water with some pills.

“What are these?” I asked.

“Take them. It will help you relax.”

I hesitated for a moment, then took them.

After some time had passed I felt more relax and a bit intoxicated.

I remember the photographer coming near me and taking the photos.

Standford smiled as the photographer took the shots.

My clothes were almost all gone except for a sheet that covered me.

After that moment I knew that things for me would never be the same. Whatever innocence or self-respect lived in me was gone. Standford was just like the rest of them.

I tried to cover my tears as both Standford and the photographer placed their hands on me while taking the photos.

I felt so light headed I am not sure what happened. All I know is I woke up completely naked the next morning and next to me was Standford.

Why can’t I just walk away?

Why can’t I just leave?

“Hey, come back to bed darling," called Standford. Then, he grabbed my arm. Not soon after he had his way with me again.

Why bother anymore?

I am a prisoner.

I just can’t escape.