If only I could have been a daddy's girl, I would not of had grown up in that monster's world, That monster he came calling for me, in his house I was scared as can be. Jamae Vandegraph remembers-and wishes she couldn't. She remembers the man long ago who took her to a cold, dark, unfurnished upstairs bedroom equipped with an old wooden tripod with a big camera that rested on its top. She remembers this room because this is where he undressed her and forced her to touch him. She remembers being cold, scared, and alone. Most of all, she remembers closing her eyes and wishing she was anywhere but there.
