A large heavy gate guarded the estates; a single grey brick road went through the neighborhood. Not a single child was playing in their sparkling pools. I did not even see a bike in the yard, just large white stone houses. I arrived to his house. I could feel the sweat dripping down my temple unto my sunburned skin. I knocked on the wooden door he answered not a single word leaving his lips but a simple gesture to come inside. The immaculate house felt so cold and empty. Although there were large leather couches to fill the space I still felt alone, like the white walls were collapsing in on my throat, struggling to find the next breath of sticky humid air. Words escaped his mouth, although I did not care what he said. I got up to check my charging phone to break the silent despair I felt. As I stopped behind the couch I could feel him behind me his hot breath on the back of my neck, his sweaty palms on my hips as though lighting raced through my body he shoved me over the couch yanking my hair and head back, with rage surging through my body , I jolted to my feet moving to the end of the couch as he shoves me over the leather arm and his fat face laughing to me as though it were a joke, feeling belittled and dehumanized I leave the white stone house hanging my head like child as tears streamed down my face.