Written by: Admin_SheEvo
Letters to Stony
Title: It’s not what I did, it’s how you felt
I was happy, even when sometimes life got hard. I won and lost sometimes, but I was grateful for one thing: LIFE. I would randomly bump into you at my favourite store, at the taxi rank or sit next to you in a taxi. I didn’t know you, but I would smile and greet you, maybe even engage in a conversation. I wasn’t suspicious of anything.
I didn’t think I was your next victim. You took your time learning my routine, you allowed hate and jealousy to rent your heart, and evil thoughts resided in your mind. To you, I was not worthy of living; my existence threatened yours in ways I could never comprehend. One day, you decided my time was up, you didn’t want to see my face anymore, my innocent smile and infectious laughter irked you, so you waited until my friends left, and made your way into my home.
I got startled when I saw you in my living room. You said I should not scream and that it would just take a few minutes. I tried running, but you were too fast, you hit me with a hammer, and I fell, blood gushing out of my head. You turned me around and started throwing punch after punch, kicked me like a dog, even though I couldn’t defend myself. I begged you, pleaded with you, but you didn’t care; you had already decided my fate.
When I was losing consciousness, you unbuckled your pants and had your way with me. My tears didn’t move you. In fact, they filled your heart with satisfaction. When you were done, you dragged me to the kitchen and stabbed me multiple times until I took my last breath. You left, leaving me in a pool of my own blood, violated in my own home, and robbed me of my life. My heartbroken soul watched you leave my house, leaving me bloody and cold.
I wanted to ask why? What did I do to deserve such cruelty? Unfortunately, I am now just a spirit, another statistic that will never get justice.
By: Thapelo Bridget
