The only difference is that I did this shit all the time. What can I say? I’m a slut. I guess my number was finally up. I attempted to protest, but ...there were three large guys inside, and I knew that I was never going to see my sister again. The sexy guy pulled out a white cloth, something straight out of a horror movie, and when I woke up I was at The Chamber. I was bound and a heavy hood covered my head. I wanted to do nothing but fight. Fight for my life. Fight for my freedom. Until the hood. Then the awkward silence again. Finally we arrived and checked in again to a hotel. Quickly prepped for the calling hours and were off. My father remained rather quite all day. After the calling hours he dropped me back to the hotel and said he would be meeting up with some old friends for a drink. Gave me some money for a pizza and was off. I had dinner in the room. Showered and made sure to shave very well before climbing in bed. I slept in one of my fathers t-shirts that barely covered my. I could see her logic and even understand it. The problem was I wasn’t my mother. Her choice to remain with my dad was her own. This was my life, and no matter how much my mother thought I should act a certain way, it wasn’t her call. Just as my uncle had often told me, my feelings were real. I couldn’t live my life to please anyone but myself.I thought about my life and how it would be if I let what was going on with my mom continue, and I felt myself choke up. The one thing I did know was. For the first time ever, I've asked for somewhere you don't know. Go across Butt Bridge, turn left into Gardiner Street and left again into Talbot Street. Then you'll see it."Maktum drove off without comment. He made a mental note to ask if anyone else in the party knew anything about the Emir's previous visit to Dublin years earlier.When they reached the Celt, the Emir got out of the car and said, "Now vanish for three hours. I'll be perfectly safe here. I promise not to go anywhere.