Narrator

"David" was the bowie knife you bought and had engraved to prove a point when you were fifteen, everyone who said it was a waste of money couldn't get the awesome joke. At least that's what you told yourself. Anon looked concerned.

You held onto the side of the bed with a kung-fu grip that would make G.I. Joe proud. It was all you could do to avoid being tossed around like the rest of your things.