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"I lay on the cold dirt floor, twisting in pain, shivering. I clutched a small scratchy blanket against my naked body, as if it would protect me from harm. But I knew it wouldn't. I knew there would be no protection: the worst was yet to come. I'd felt hopeless before; I'd felt dread – lots of times. But never like this. I'd talked about wanting to die, but I never really meant it . . . maybe this time would be the exception."