Dustin looked at her as she started to talk very softly. He then picked up a few more rocks. Looking back out over the water. Readying to throw another rock and sighed. He looked down and lowered his hand which held the rock to throw. "I was angry at first but it was quickly beaten out of me. When I was ten I got angry that nothing I did was good enough. That everything about me was wrong. I was angry and threw things. Threw a fit. I quickly learned it was a mistake. I never made that mistake again. I learned to take that anger and release it in other ways...through music. Through playing my guitar and singing." He said softly. "I cut to cope Reni...I don't feel anger anymore. All that anger turned to sorrow on my eleventh birthday. It went from sorrow and confusion to anger to sorrow to dead inside. That is what I am not Reni...I'm dead inside." He lifted his head and looked out over the water. "Besides...if I got angry at what they did to me I'd be no better than my father. I learned to not get angry. So now I don't get angry easy. I was abused since I was barely six months old. You don't understand Reni...up until three weeks before my eighteenth birthday...I was abused. In almost every way possible. My mom almost abused me sexually because she was so pissed at me for back talking and hiding from them. I pity them...that they had only hate in them. That I wasn't a perfect child for them." He fell silent. Tossing another rock. "I cut to cope. That and over the years of cutting...it is what I need to do. Like an alcoholic needs to drink or a drug addict needs drugs. Or like a vampire needs blood. I need to cut to stay sane. I started when I was almost three. It got worse over the years. The abuse got worse. I ended up in ICU on more than ten different accounts. They always told a lie. When I tried to escape they called the cops and told them a lie that I was clinically insane and ran away. I was dragged back by force. I was almost free of them that time...which is why they did that. My dad had loads of excuses and reasons about what happened. I could breathe wrong and I'd be hit or screeched at and demeaned."<br/><br/>He paused after a moment. "After awhile you realize...its just not worth it to get angry over it because it won't change that it is happening. It won't stop it from happening." He skipped another rock. "Just like nobody stopped it from happening. Nobody saved me even when I begged them to. So after awhile it just doesn't matter. I can recall at least ten different times when I just had too much and couldn't take any more...I snapped. I tried to kill myself to finally be at peace. To be free. Each and every time my guardian angel would prevent me from dying. I'd wake up in the hospital. Or I'd be knocked onto the sidewalk. Or caught and dropped lightly onto the ground. There was no escape from my hell on earth. Then a few weeks ago something happened...something that ended my hell on earth. They were gone. I don't remember what happened but I just know I was free."<br/><br/>He stopped for a moment then skipped another rock and continue. "Then I was brought overseas...brought here. By a grandmother who I have never met. By a grandmother I was told had been trying to find me since I was born. I'm not sure I actually believe that. If she tried she didn't try hard enough. There isn't anything left of me inside. I'm a walking shell. The only time I feel alive is when I sing and play my guitar. They killed me yet left me living...there is no reason to get angry over something that won't change. It happened and that will never go away."