She got the news that her abuser died in peace after had been bedridden for ten years.
All the pots and pans were swept off the kitchen bench. The noise echoed off the tile floor. She torn the t-shirt that she was wearing, exposing her flesh. She gripped her hair with both hands until she felt the pain of her scalp. Thumping her fists on her thighs like a downpour.
She was angry. She was savagely angry.
You didn’t deserve to die. Died in peace? What’s that? What is that? You scum of the earth didn’t deserve to die. You deserved to rot in your own putrid karma. I deserve to die. I deserve freedom. I deserve innocence. Your death robbed me of everything, everything!
She felt empty after emptying out all her rage. Desolate, numb, nothingness, still haunted.
Flicker of Thoughts 