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MY PAINKILLER

PAINKILLER I just got my release papers after spending seven years in prison. You might all be wondering why I got in prison. It's that simple. I killed a man for raping me. Now, most people and the court didn't see what I did as self defence because that man was my husband. They thought me cruel and heartless to murder a man who I was supposed to love. I don't blame them because they were actually right but they did not know the full story behind my charade of a marriage. I only blame my parents for selling me off and getting me married against my will. I had just turned eighteen and I wanted to enjoy my adulthood but they ruined my plans. They got me married and I spent the other years in prison. I was the only child of my parents and things were not so good for us. I was willing to not go to school in order to help them hustle and provide. But they thought marrying me off would solve our financial needs. I begged and pleaded but they wouldn't listen. And after three months of marriage, I turned a murderer. I was willing to leave all that in the past now and start anew. But I couldn't help but wonder if my past was willing to leave me and let me start anew. One way or the other, I knew, that my past was gonna come haunt me. And I don't know if I was prepared or not yet. "Victoria Williams?" a female police officer asked me when I got to the counter. "Yes ma'am," I replied and nodded. I watched her fill out a book and let me sign. She gave me some new clothes and a wallet. Another police officer unlocked my handcuffs and showed me a room to change in. I changed quickly and observed myself in a mirror. I had changed a whole lot. All my fat was gone and was replaced by thin skin,  jutting bones and sunken eyes. The new clothes made me presentable to the world I was going to meet and that was satisfactory. I walked out the changing room to the waiting room to be greeted by a small girl who ran and hugged me. "Mummy," she said.

mystery_flame · 奇幻言情
分數不夠
157 Chs

8

Chapter 8

RAE KELLER 

My mind tugged at me, taunting me, as I trudged along in the suit I was borrowed by Rosha. It kept reminding me of the promise I had made the last week. I would get a job and I would take my daughter out of the depressing home where we stayed.

Promises are meant to be broken, it said to me. 

Things were not going as planned at all. I had planned to look through at least two to three companies before I got a job. I even made sure to target companies that were not discriminating against ex convicts because I knew that otherwise, I probably would not get a job. But even that had not helped me at all.

All day for the past week, I had attended four interviews each and once they heard my name or saw my face, it was like they just lost interest and I just knew that these people were not going to hire me.