"I felt the tug on my sleeve and looked down to find him standing motionless. His mouth was moving but I couldn’t make out his words. His quiet body in the noisy room caught me off guard. I bent down to find his voice."
"Tears-pouring-down-my-face, couldn't-talk-couldn't-breathe kind of laughing. Screaming laughing. So hard that I was sobbing because I couldn't get it together."
"I don’t know who this lady is... she waved at him and he made his way up to her. I thought their interaction would be the same as last time but I was wrong. "
“Once we got into the typical, annoying Los Angeles traffic, completely out of the blue, he placed his hand on my inner thigh and then grabbed my crotch. I screamed, ‘What are you doing? No!’”
I was kicked in the head, I was beaten with a club. And then strangled again for the kill; at which time he disposed of my body into an area I refer to as the ‘hole’.
"In a puddle of my own blood, he left me in the dark—barely 20 paces from a main road. For all he knew I was dead...This is real. This did happen. It does happen."
"I draw a line down the middle of a chalkboard, sketching a male symbol on one side and a female symbol on the other. At first there is a kind of awkward silence as the men try to figure out if they've been asked a trick question..."
