By the time you're reading this letter, I must have been dead. He slapped me today again. He nearly smashed my head on the door post. I wish it had end anyways. But I will kill him to night. Definitely, I will. That your reading this piece, shows is my plan worked out well and you're stand looking up, beneath my dangling lifeless body. I told myself, it's game over today. Don't you think its better I end it. May to stay away for good. What is life, when it's filled with scars, wounds, and tears and emotion ruptured at it's infancy. Mine was ruptured, crushed by him. Should i recall the endless nights, my nectar bud was ripped, rapped over and over again. I try to cry those times, but tears have dried up in skull. I don't emotional water any long, agony have stolen mine. Sometimes, wants them to flow down my Chick, to my Stive heart was no long responding to any tenderness. Did he actually married me? I'm. Sorry I have lost account of time and my mind
It had taken a long time to come to terms with what had happened. For months I went through acute bouts of depression, crying most of the day and long into the night. Then for a while it would pass and I’d begin to believe I’d accepted my loss, until the awful pain would start all over again. Mum was wonderful. She’d sit with me as I cried and held me close when only the silent heartbreak was left. “Time will heal, Joy,” she kept saying. “I promise you it will.” I believed her. When my father had died I didn’t think she’d ever get over it, but she had, and deep down I knew that in time I’d learn to live without Paul and our baby. The strange thing was when that time came I didn’t even realise… A few of the girls at work had insisted on taking me out to lunch to celebrate my birthday. I’d protested at first, preferring to be on my own, but they refused to listen and, just after one o’clock, I was sitting in the pub with a basket of chicken and chips o