"Put the gun down," I pleaded, watching tears stream down her paling face, showing the pain, embarrassment, anger, and everything else she hid deep in the person everyone knew as Kylietta Sera Storms. Sixteen long years she held it all in and nobody had ever wanted to help her. Left her in that cold, dark place where all the cryptic, maniac things roamed.

Yes, at first, alls I wanted was a subject to study for a week, as an assignment, and yes, I wanted somebody to make me feel good about myself, especially a woman who looked like a model like her, but never did I know how torn and tattered this woman's insides were.

"I can't put the gun down Bry. Why do you care anyway? Alls you wanted was a subject and a good fuck. You even said it yourself. WHAT DO YOU CARE?!" she barked, sobbing harder than before. She cocked the gun and was ready to end it all. Pull the trigger and get rid of all these emotions she's felt since she was six.

"Yes you can Ky. Just put the gun down. You don't wann . . ."

"Bullshit! You don't fuckin' know! You don't fuckin' know what I want! You don't go home everyday to a fuckin' shit hole of a house! You don't have men grabbing your ass or breast every time you walk by them. You're never considered just a fuck toy to half the fuckin' men in Manhattan! Are you now?!"

I closed my eyes after listening to that comment. Ky was right. As disturbing as it sounded, as cruel as it may seem, it was true. And as one of those men, it hurt even worst to hear the truth of what you are.

"Ky, just . . . give me the gun. Please?" I pleaded stepping towards the shacking woman who stood six feet in front of me.

She shook her head furiously no and stepped backwards away from me, keeping the pistol locked tightly to her temple. I'd never EVER would have pictured Ky to pull shit like this, but I guess I never knew her at all, even though I tried to wriggle deep, deep down to the core of her brain, like the snake I am, to really understand this human I was engaging myself with.

After ten minutes of pleading, Ky gave in. She broke down in a fit of sobs, the blubber making her words becoming not understandable. Ky had hit rock bottom this time, and I was here to watch her sink lower into the unforgiving ground we call reality.

I approached her cautiously, not knowing what would happen next if I didn't. When I perceived that it was ok, I pulled the petite woman into my arms as a barrier and a message that I was there for her. I guess she didn't believe me.