The moment I tossed the gun on the floor is the very moment I realized that my feelings for you have vanished.
I believe what you did to me for the past six years helped egg me this way. These scars are the proof that I've had enough. But it's what you've done to my child, is the straw that broke the camel's back.
If I told people what you did to me, they won't believe me. You were the pillar of the community. Everybody looked up to you. To them you're a doting husband, a loving father, a man of intelligence and virtue. So why would people believe me when I tell them who you really are behind closed doors?
It has been six years since I was diagnosed with breast cancer. And from that moment on, you become someone else. You abused me physically and mentally. You told me I wasn't fit to become your wife. You beat me senseless whenever I failed to fulfill my responsibility as a wife and a mother. I stuck on even though I was suffering, because of one reason. Our daughter.
She's the most beautiful girl I've seen. She was doing well in school right until that moment you called her into our bedroom. You tore her apart the day you raped her and told her she had to take my place.
I let you abuse me because I loved you. But I won't let you do the same to her, because her life is worth much more than mine and yours. So I took the gun and shot you in the head. Because this is the only chance I've got before I die, to tell my daughter, that I love her. That my love for her hasn't vanished like mine for you
