A part of me wish I cld put the pen to paper and write to all of you my feelings regarding my family’s recent lost, but the other part feels as tho there is no one outside of my family who wld understand the Pain. Most of the time my family doesn’t understand my outspokeness and free spirit .
Honestly, It’s not a loss it’s murder and we are left to mourn once again after the actions of an evil person, the devil actually.
We left New Orleans to escape the possibilities of prison and being murdered, but it’s shadow has followed us to the land of the free North where the ice cold snow makes the red blood brighter.
Maybe, once my breath, my heartbeat and my mind finds some balance, I’ll share how it feels to be a survivor of a murder victim.