I used to be happy

I used to love my life

I used to be carefree

Until I met the dark room.

I used to have a family

I used to have a best friend

I used to have a man who cared for me

and his dog who loved me.

Until I met the dark room.

Playing loud music until the crack of dawn

Running from the cops and shooting bottles

Hanging out and laughing with everyone I saw

Until I met the dark room.

The sun went down

and the demon came out to play

It's been a while since it's last victim

My life used to be so happy

Until I met the dark room.

He took me.

He took everything and everyone away from me

My hopes

my dreams

my friends

my family

my life.

He said it will be okay

Until I met the dark room.

He used me and even abused me

He took other people like me

but they never managed to get away from him.

Missing posters of me and others went around the town

Yet nobody could find me no matter how hard I screamed and cried.

I had my life planned ahead of me

Until I met the dark room.

He drugged me and used me for his sick obsession

Girls came and went, never to be spoken or seen again.

Binders and folders filled with their names

glue every where with new names for more people to come.

Finally, he and I have had enough.

I had people who loved me

Until I met the dark room.

He grabbed me, and knocked me out.

He then overdosed me and put me in his car

I was out of it.

I was out of life.

He went to the junkyard where my friend and I used to go to.

I used to love going their.

Until I met the dark room.

He dug a hole in the ground with his bare hands, and rolled me in it.

No tears were shed

no flowers were left

just a girl who was kidnapped and used.

He piled the dirt on me, with a sickening grin.

I used to love going to his class

Until I met the dark room.

Finally, I felt something.

I heard someone.

I heard a cry, a scream, a panic, nails digging into my cold body.

I saw a brunette and my old best friend.

The brunette was shocked, horrified and even disgusted.

My best friend was broken, crying her heart out.

The brunette ran over and hugged her, trying to calm her down.

I remember how her hugs felt.

Until I met the dark room.

Yet, the man got another victim.

I saw the whole thing.

He drugged the brunette and shot my best friend.

I tried to scream and warn them, but they couldn't hear me.

I wanted to let her hear me one last time.

I wanted the brunette to hear me the first and last time.

But I couldn't, my voice still lingers in my friends head.

I remember her voice too.

Until I met the dark room.

Rachel in the dark room he wrote

yet nobody listened.

The dark room is a place where broken memories are found

and where an innocent person isn't so innocent

the dark room is where you'd find him

where at day he would teach photography

and at night he would try his skills out in disgusting ways.

I was never scared.

Until I met him in the dark room.