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Excerpt from my book

     I still hear the water running in the tub in the evenings; the way it always has been when she bathed at night. Sometimes, I still see her sitting on the sofa on the front porch afterwards painting her toe nails or talking on the cell to her mother.

 

      Maybe it’s just guilt. The guilt that it should have been me lying in that grave instead of her. Or maybe selfishness. That’s it! It’s selfishness. Selfish thoughts and questions. “Did she still love me even until the very end?” Did she blame me for what had happened, even though she and I both knew it was simply an accident?”

 

     Somehow my mind and heart need these answers. But, then I talk to her. She never even gives the singlest of clues to me. She talks of all the good times we shared. About how much fun she had at Christmas time when her father paid for us to come to New Jersey to visit.

 

     I don’t, in my heart of hearts believe that she ever blamed anyone for what had happened to her. But I do! Oh yes, I do! And each of you knows exactly who you

 

are. The ones who defiled her in the past. The ones who made her think that she was less than perfect. The ones who only came around or talked to her when I wasn’t there and you wanted to offer her money for certain services of which you knew that she did not do.

 

     How Carrie did loathe this. To be treated only as a piece of flesh to be drooled after. My Carrie knew that I loved her for her. I loved her for her pure child-like heart. For her inner as well as outer beauty. This always gave her a radiance and beauty that even the heavenly angels themselves stood in awe of.

 

     But you! You chosen few who decided to make her life and livelihood a living hell. You I blame for her death. You were the ones who called or showed up and got her to a great point of depression. The ones who got her upset enough that she had gotten careless with a task that she had performed countless times before. The ones who made my Carrie lose all hope, no matter how hard I tried to reassure her otherwise.

 

     I have come to conclude that once hope is gone, we are no longer human. We become something that merely tries to survive on sheer instinct. This race never actually developed to homosapien from Neanderthal – we are still there. We strive to contradict today what was religiously upheld yesterday. Yet we still consider ourselves, the human species, superior. Superior to what?!

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14 years ago
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