MICHAEL

I looked around the warehouse. It was spacious and big with a broken windows and broken glass on door. There were rats scattering around the corners and nibbling on dead rats and squeaking. I looked up at one of the guys "My name's Carmine." He sagte as he took his messer and softly caressed my cheek again , I looked the other way while he grabbed my face "Don't be such a bitch. I might cut off your pretty face." He pushed my head back while his assistant , brung a bucket of water "Here Du go." He sagte as he gave Carmine the bucket. He dumped the water on me then untied me from the chair and...

I truly believe that each time he sagte that,he meant it.
He is one of the few reasons why I'm still alive.
He made me believe that I was not alone.
I believe he'd Liebe me,no matter what I was,but he'd Liebe me for who I am.
The reason why I'm writting this is because since early 2012,I have bulimia.
It was HELL,no matter what I did,I'd always finish the Tag throwing up in the cold bathroom.
And I cut a few times,my body is a terrible mess,but my mind is even worse,although I almost don't throw up now
Today,I'm better,but still...not fully recovered.
THIS is a way of telling people that I Liebe MICHAEL,that...