Faith knows what she is doing is bad. She promised her mother that she would never let a man touch her the way one is now, that she would never have sex until she was married, so he couldn't knock her up and abandon her, and that if would always be 'making love' and never fucking. 'But really,' she thinks, 'what right did she have to expect these things from me when she couldn't even walk from the couch to the bathroom to throw up because she was so drunk or stoned?'

Almost unconchously, the girl grinds into her partners' hips, and winses as she feels him come to life. She is reminded of when she was six, and one of her mum's boyfriends had gone into her room after her mother had passed out, forced her faded pink panties down, and pushed himself all the way inside of her, covering her face with a pillow so she couldn't scream, before leaving her room, broken and crying silently, while gasping for air.

Her curent 'love intrest' takes her hands, and she wraps her arms around his neck, rubbing herself against him in all the right places, until the memory goes away.

Faith dances to forget, and sometimes, she thinks it almost works.