Her Pain || Her Scars || Her Life

The Chronicles of EveryWoman

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I wake up, change into my jogging kit and walk out of the house. I continue down the path leading to the gate and walk out. I stand still. I’m shivering – it’s expected. After all, it is only four o’ clock in the morning. I sigh and look ahead of me. I turn left and continue to walk down the road.

Frost is covering the green lawn of the houses I walk past. Big, elaborate houses that shelter elegant families. Houses that contain their pride, joy, and dirty secrets. I laugh as I think of my house. To outsiders – and even those who have been inside- it’s a house that exudes wealth, elegance and a much-envied opulent lifestyle.

To me, that house is hell. Every room holds more pain than joy; more misery than happiness; more disappointment than celebration. Of course we’ve had celebrations there – parties…

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