I am going to tell my story. And my teacher will read it. And at least two of my classmates.

This scares me beyond belief.

But what scares me more is writing it. I don’t want to drudge up these memories. I don’t want to risk the nightmares. Especially since I’m reading ‘Stumbling Toward Faith’ again.

“Help me. O God, help me. Help me, O God.”

I can do this.