The first hour drags in. It’s torture to watch. I know what it feels like to have your consent stripped away; to be used and fucked while you barely have a grip on reality. I know how it feels to want them to stop, to try to fight them off. I remember my own voice being like Stacey’s – haunting me as she wakes and pleads. Cries. Even trying to hit back before being tied to the bedpost.
