Dear Kay,
I have not written you since the day you changed your life. I have so many things to tell you, to tell you. Like, Mike was the one who killed you. Though I think you should have heard. I always thought he could kill you. Since your first meeting when you were just 17 years old.
There was not a day I did not think of your beautiful face, the face I've been familiar with for years. I often find myself waking up in cold sweats. I try to dream of touching you, but it goes far. Calling on behalf of you, do not answer me. Why?
I received that terrible call at 5 o'clock on May 26, 2010. A call that changed my life, the whole existence. No warning but straight to the topic: "You heard the news Mike killed Kay". Sheeped on the ground. I felt like my being was torn, torn into thousands of parts. "Mike kills Kay. The police have surrounded the house with the yellow ribbon."
Mbylleee! Mjaftttt! Pushooo! I do not want to hear anymore, I'm not ready!
I can not remember how I went to the hospital, where I found my dad. Kay, it was the first time I saw her crying.
Mike kills us all in different ways. I saw you while lying on the silvery table of the morgue. In the room felt Chanel perfume, the mistletoe had slipped into her eyebrows while the lipstick was scattered everywhere. You had already fled, you were climbing over clouds. How was it possible? We talked together a few hours ago and now there was no sound, no smile, no life.
I feel it necessary to confess that I did not endure your death as a normal person. It was mad! I heard the doctor talk and deep inside my being barking: "Jooooo noooooo son of a bitch, unclean. Joooooo "
But you dear, listen to me? Do you listen to me how I got worried? I, the invincible.
Then I found myself in your funeral. At a time when I saw all those pathetic faces, and I thought, "What are they doing here?" Winking and I wanted to ask you something: did you know that he would blame you in the afternoon? I called you thousands of times but did not answer. It must have been moments when Mike ... Do you feel hot metal when you hit the head?
I could not believe it. I asked someone who was with me: did this terrible man really kill my sister? Truly my sister has died, meaning dead dead forever? I got two consecutive POs.
Just ??? How the hell did you walk, breathing, why am I living? I did not quite welcome your sister's death. What am I and me? I felt the hell myself. The bad thing is that I always knew that he would do you wrong. Deep in a corner of my subconscious I was convinced that this day would come. But what could I do? Catch and break those fingers thumbs?
Every night, before I sleep, I pray to see you in a dream and be with you. How many journeys, dreams, plans, moments left in half. Kim and Kay-forever sister! Here he killed you and now we have no chance. Why ? Because we are silent about his violence. Both sister, both of you silent, with the change you did not know about this story ...
