I sometimes think we leave this world almost the moment we have everything all figured out; the ultimate cosmic joke. This would be a reason why so many bright, amazing people leave us so early. Maybe also, when we die before we are ready, parts of us stay unable to leave this earthly world. I don’t know if she had to die, but she most definitely was not ready. Parts of her haunt me still.
In the end, I will be judged. I may be called a murderer or forgiven for self-defense. I think she sacrificed herself so that I could live, unaware of her own suicide. The guilt paralyzes me and the byproduct is two lives wasted; gone too soon.
This won’t do. Justice must be served to all those responsible. Even if it is my own undoing, the truth must be set free.