The woman with the tattoo of the bird told me that when I was afraid, all that I had to do was think of my favorite place, and all of my fears would diminish.
One day, I became conflicted.
I was in her arms, one day, you see,
and I tried thinking of my favorite place to escape her fingers which were as cold as Wichita's winters...
but I was already there.
As a surviving **** victim, this is the best way I could ever possibly explain what it is like to suffer from Stockholm's Syndrome.