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Life was always and has never been all that kind to me. If I could turn the clock back in time I guess I would wish that I had never been born. Why? You ask, well, it is Déjá  Vu all over again. You see, the past that I had put behind me would make an awful appearance, all too soon and bring back my nightmares with a vengeance. Only those who have suffered as I have or their friends can hope to comprehend my hell.

The summer started off nice and quiet, Jenn went off to visit her family and I had reign of the apartment. I had picked up a small part time job at the local convenience store for my first "legit" job. I was happy about that. My hours were only 4 hours on; Monday, Wednesday, and Saturday. A total of 12 hours a week, not bad considering I would work up to 18 on the street, this was a substantial change.

Anyhow, my school work progressed as I took on homework to get ahead in my classes for the fall semester.

Here I was, a school girl, well on her way to a new life that was totally different from the one that she knew. I was going grom a street wise prostitute to something worthwhile. I had no idea about what was about to happen to me, that fateful day. If I had known, I'd have done things differently.

My world of peace ended abruptly, one Friday as I was walking from the library when I saw my nemesis, ADAM. He rounded the corner from the library and immediately sought me out by following me to the bus. I quickened my pace and he literally ran and caught up to me and knocked me down. In broad daylight, he immediately punched me in the face and started to pound on my body. I had no fight as my hands were kinda pinned by his knees as he was punching me. I went unconscious soon after and woke up in the ER. My worst nightmare returned all over again, with that prick.

The ER nurse, Karen came in and told me that I had been, raped and started
asking all sorts of questions about my gender and my health background etc. Some I was willing to answer while the others I shrugged off. Yes, I knew she was trying to help; I was just not to comfortable talking about things with her.

Karen; "Melissa, you are badly bruised on my face and two of your ribs are broken on the left side."

I wished I was dead after the beating that I just took. I asked her, "Did they get ADAM?"

She told me, I’m not sure."

I shrugged. I hurt like hell. I cried. And then I fell asleep.

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Several days passed, and I was released from the hospital. I went home, via cab and went to bed on the couch. I made sure though that the hospital called my work so that they knew that I was hospital bound. Over the next few weeks, I really struggled. Jenn came home and she freaked out. I told her about my run in with ADAM. We had a cry session. I debated yet again my purpose.

It brought horrid memories of life on the farm dealing with my abusers, my "father" and "brother". I get depressed really quickly. I wanted to end my life and I almost did, it was the middle of July and I remember grabbing a kitchen knife with a 6 inch blade, going into the bathroom and running the bath water, then climbing into the tub. I remember slashing the insides of both my legs high enuff on them. Near my groin area, I passed out.

I woke in the psych ward back at the hospital where only a few weeks previous I was released. I was strapped to the bed with the heavy restraints. I cried. I screamed to high hell over being tied down like a crazed animal. I woke up a day later. I cried. When was this shit ever going to be right for me? I hate my life, I hate FUCKING MEN!! I hate everything period.

I found out is Jenn whom had found me in the tub and screamed and called 911. I owe her so much. I wanted to die. I so wanted to end it all and
see what came next, if anything. Life sucked and I hated everything in it. I even blamed Jenn for rescuing me. I was so angry, all those pent up feelings and emotions flooded back. And I was reliving my hell on earth again. I had no escape this time. I was confined to a bed and a room. NOT FUN.

Then, a week and a half later, a woman came in and sat at the side of the bed and introduced herself to me. Her name was Sheila. Sheila was a short woman of 5 foot 4 and heavy set, not too heavy. She wore glasses and had greyish brown hair. She carried a file folder and a clipboard. She looked at my file and then we started to talk.

Sheila: "Hi Mellissa, how are you feeling today?"

Me: "OK, maybe, not sure, I want out of here"

Sheila: "Not going to happen, we have to have a along talk and then I WILL decide what you will do!!" she emphatically stated.

Me: "Why me, Why can I not die and be left alone?"

Sheila: "You tell me why you want to die. Tell me why you hate yourself." She had one of those looks that could shake apples from a tree as she stared at me. They were not kind eyes.

Me: "I want too, I hate life, I hate MEN, and I hate everything, why shouldn't I die?" I fired back at her.

Sheila: "Tell me why you hate your life. Tell me why you want to die. You are skipping the questions with asking questions." She made notes and then scowled at me. I could immediately tell this was going to be a long day with this bitch here. I turned my head and closed my eyes.

Sheila: Why don't you talk with me? I am here to assist you and hope to help you and then see what happens after our little chat here today."

Me: "Why should I, you think I am a freak, an idiot and a nobody. Why would you fucking care?"

She shook her head at me,: "Why would you say that, Mellissa. I am here to help you. I am here to listen to you. I want to help you if I can. I do now some of your background from talking to Jenn. You do remember who Jenn is, right?"

I nodded.

Sheila: "Well then tell me I cannot help yu if you do not open up to me and tell me why you want to die." her demenour changed slightly to a more calm state.

Me: "Sheila, the reason I want to die is that I cannot keep living and feeling that everyone wants to abuse me and to hurt me. I want to die because I do not want to feel pain, to feel used. Fuck! I was used like a punching bag at home for 9 fucking years and then a life of hell on the streets and you expect me to want to keep living? I have nothing to give, I am nothing. I am to be used and fucking abused by everyone and hurt in the process."

She kept writing notes. She was calm and got up after several more questions, never did respond to my response to her inquiries. All she did was say, "I will see you tomorrow."

I went to sleep.

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After the following weekend. Sheila paid me a second visit, this one longer than the first. I was a lot calmer and somewhat rested. I asked for the restraints to be taken off and they were not. I was told that they would not be till I was no longer a threat to myself. Fuck! What could I do there; I had nothing to kill myself with. Oh well.

We had a much more intense session. I was told by her that I was what they called a transsexual. I never knew. I told her,” I was forced into this situation and never looked back. I had suffered so much abuse at the hands of my "FATHER" and "BROTHER", being raped daily. I had no choice but to live life as a girl and to survive on the streets. HELL! I was given hormones by my mother, and she neglected me. I even tried to commit suicide at home, But once I ran away, I enjoyed the freedom of the road when I was riding."

"How did she give the hormones to you?"

"In my food, but once I was on the streets I bought the pills and took them."

"What size are you?"

"I am a nice comfortable 34 c at 18 years of age."

"What did you see on the streets?"

"I saw, the ongoing abuse on the streets, and at time, was raped. Then of course, there were the murders that I witnessed." she looked as though she could faint as I described the horror I saw when I witnessed the murders. After several hours she left. I was left alone to contemplate my fate. Déjá  Vu becomes true.....