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When I Was 23
My world was surrounded by junk, but beneath the junk a secret past , a secret I'd never reveal. Or I thought I'd never reveal. They came pounding on the door that sunny morning . They told me I had two weeks to clean up or to get out. They told me I had two weeks to forget my past. I had been 23 years old. Recently married, happy as can be … when a phone call rang in. Thered been an accident. Her wallet had his id in it. Shed died on the scene. Her body had been burnt to ashes. There was nothing left of her. All that had been left was her clothes , her perfume. I'd put on her perfume just to feel her spirit with me, I'd wear her clothes just to feel she was here again. Id eat what she ate, I'd wear what she wore , I'd live how she lived. I went to her job , I changed my name , I became her. I did what I had to do to cope. I stopped leaving the house , I stopped leaving the bed and my world became stuff. Bottles of perfume filled my kitchen , there was no food , there was no water. I began to wither away. At 36 my mother passed away . At 37 my father comminted suicide in his grief. At 39 I entered an endless depression. My days became night and my nights became my days. At 41 I hung myself but my brother found me. At 43 I overdopsed on codine after a dental surgery. At 44 I spent 3 months in a mental institution and now at 56 I became a murder. Haunted by the demons of my past. I knew I could not face when they gave me the choice I choose the 3rd way. Not only did I end a world of lives I ended my darkness, forever today.
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