It's All Mechanical by R. A., Shrewsbury, MA

My hair was wet, sticking to my face, while the rain tried to wash away the pain, my deep starving pain. I was losing my sense of mind. He didn't care, used me for nothing, took my life away. There is not much left of me, so for now I'll sit on the side of the road, and watch the cars ignore me.

They are cold, unfeeling things, ever moving, obeying every command. They never bleed, easily heal. He once made me get into a car. Then I felt the real fear. But no one saw my hand slide down the glass in silent defeat.

Never again will I enter a realm I choose not to know. I'll be content to live with the warm rain on my face and that horrible pain, echoing the nightmares of my soul.