"Want me to do it with your ass?" When the man said that, I trembled and was pulled into his palm. Unbearable heat and pain shot through me as I involuntarily moaned, and he grinned with pleasure. Why did things come to this? My reflection in the window blurred and vanished. After my father left when I was in elementary school, my mother raised me all on her own. Working late every night, never buying herself anything, always exhausted—yet she was always kind. So when she shyly introduced me to her boyfriend, I felt a little lonely, but I was happy too. Because she looked so happy. But one day, while she was away, that man assaulted me. "Make money with your body," he demanded. I wanted them to break up. The man Mom loved was a bad person. "I'm sorry, but Mom can't keep going alone anymore—so you have to obey," she said, took the money from the man, and silently left the room. She chose him over staying with me. "Let's have fun today," the man said, sliding his hand between my skirt. I twisted my body, trying to escape, but he grabbed me tightly and pulled me back. I have nowhere to return to, nowhere to run. A pure, pitiful girl, her heart and body defiled by the selfish choices of adults.