I'm not sure I should be telling you this. He was so popular, good looking and quarterback of the football team. Everybody liked him. We were at the after party and it was getting late. He offered to drive me home. We were in the car and I talked up a storm, but he never said a word. Then we passed the turn we usually have to take to get to my house. So I asked him, 'John, where are we going?' He didn't answer. Again I asked, 'Why did you pass my house?' There was only the sound of the tires hitting the road. I began to panic. 'John, where are you taking me? What's wrong with you?' He pulled into a dark alley and locked the doors. I tried to get out as I screamed 'Help, Help!' But no one could hear me. He was so strong, and I was too weak. If you had been outside that car, you'd have seen the windows fogging up with steam. I don't know how long it took. It could have been just a few minutes or hours but it seemed a lot longer to me. Finally, I heard the doors unlock. I grabbed by clothes and ran. I didn't know where I was going and I didn't care. I just wanted to get out of there, away from him. I ran until I couldn't run anymore. I fell flat on my face and cried. I went to school on Monday; there was a different feel in the air. Please, I've never told anyone this. Please, can you keep a secret? Everyone still loves him. But he has two faces, and I know that now.