• The Aftermath

    I never like my house. Nor my own environment. Not even my own family. They all hate me because I was the cause of my mother’s death. They hate my very existence. You see, my mother died after giving birth to me. Both my brother and father blamed me for that. They hate me. They condemn me.

    At first, they were kind, saying that it’s not my fault. I saw through their act. Their smiles and kind reassuring words were void of the warmth that was needed. Their actions were obvious as well.

    When my brother got his girlfriend at the age of fifteen, I became the third party. An obstacle. His girlfriend didn’t know that my mother died after giving birth to me, she lived in California before coming here to Phoenix. So my brother would just tell her that I’m just a cousin who’s visiting and is about to leave. He would warn me in a deadly whisper that if I was to set foot into the house while his girlfriend’s here, he will kill me. That’s how I was kicked out of the house.

    My brother and father had everything. LCD TVs along with a nice comfortable bed. A polished wooden table accompanied with comfortable chairs. They had everything tech. I have virtually nothing. Not even a bed. My clothes were old and worn out. I had to get a job to get new ones. Not that they care.

    My brother got the best education and the warm praises. I have to pay for my own education and the whole area where I live complained bitterly about me. They say I took up space. They all loved my mother and my birth made them all hate me. I got no friends. No one wants to be friends with Joanne the “Mummy Murderer”. I was always alone and I have grown used to it. It didn’t bother me much at all.

    Of course, things were lifted up when I met him. He changed my views on everything.

    I first met him at the school library as I was in a rush to get my book borrowed (yes, I read books) and I sort of … collided into him. Cliché I know, but that’s what happened. After a few passing of apologies and a small heated argument on who should be apologizing and all, we sort of clicked and became friends. Jamie. Jamie Adams. After a month or so, he confessed to me, saying that he loves me. Of course, I should’ve taken things much more cautiously but I abandoned all that logical thinking. I was happy. Ecstatic. I have never felt this happy in my whole life. SO, I went out with him and spent more time with him than anyone else. I didn’t have a place at home anymore, my room was been given to my brother’s girlfriend. I don’t exist there anymore. I never did. SO I stayed over at his place. I told him everything; he was understanding and held me close. Warmth. I never felt that before. It was the happiest period of my life.

    I was happy.

    Then college started.

    I all fell crashing down around me on that first day.

    He cheated on me and laughed. He said that he never loved me. It was all a joke; it was to humiliate Joanne the “Mummy Murderer”. Everyone there jeered at me, pushed me, and kicked me until I could no longer move. He was with them, joining in on the fun to beat me up. He laughed at me. He looked down on me. Never before have had I felt this humiliated. I wanted to kill him for that.

    I grew angry.

    After that day, I never returned. I immediately left his home and walked fifty miles to the nearest forest and stayed there, in a spot I know no one would ever find me. I stayed there for months. Months then grew into two years.

    No one searched for me.

    Anger grew away and my void for emotions faded. A new emotion took hold of me. It tore through me in the most unbearable pain. Bottle up inside me until I completely broke down and weak.

    Sadness.

    I cried and cried for hours. It hurts, I felt so abandoned.

    I hated myself.

    I hated my existence.

    There was no point being, I thought as I wiped away my tears but more came, no one wants me. When I finally calmed down, I made up my mind and wrote a note from the paper that’s still in my bag which I carried all of my stuff in (there wasn’t much) and wrote my final message and stuff it into my now torn pockets.

    My name is Joanne Richards.

    Here are my last moments.

    Here, I have decided.

    Tonight, I shall die.

    ___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

    Newspaper Report:

    Tuesday, 13th August 1998

    The body of missing woman Joanne Richards have been found last night on the highway. Although she has been found, the news did not relieve the worries of the Richards family. Ms Richards has been run over by a car. The driver said that he saw a woman suddenly appearing in front of his car early this morning and did not have enough time to apply the brakes. The police have ruled it as suicide.

    Peter Richards, the deceased older brother took the news as a blow. He is currently in the hospital for Post Traumatic Stress. Her father, Michael Richards said the following:

    “True, I have treated her wrongly. The loss of my wife was a blow I could not take and vented my anger on her. It was a big mistake, I have neglected her and now I have lost her. I just want to say how sorry I am, that I beg for forgiveness.”

    Michael Richards was later charged with child abuse and will face court the next day. As for Peter Richards, no charges were laid against him. Jamie Adams, ex-boyfriend of Joanne Richards cannot be contacted, it seems that it was he who knew her the best and the only person who has saw her last.

    Thursday, 15th August 1998

    The body of Jamie Adams was discovered early this morning in his apartment by his neighbour. It was concluded by forensics that Jamie Adams committed suicide by hanging himself in his bedroom. His neighbour, Kevin Keller, said that the death of Joanne Richards (his ex-girlfriend) struck him hard and he hasn’t emerged from his apartment since then. Growing concerned, Keller decided to check up on him and discovered his hanged body.

    It has been a tragic week, this death is the latest, following the suicide of Peter Richards (brother of the now deceased Joanne Richards) just yesterday.