The Victim

Part 3

I wish I returned home earlier that night. The night that ripped me apart, piece from piece. Through the elegant front porch at my parents' house, I waltzed into the pristine white and grey marble kitchen, happy to be home after a day at college. I glanced across the circular glass table to see if my Mother had left me my evening meal, which she had, as she always did if I ran late. As my eyes travelled, they came across the letter. The evil sight, which curses my mind with the word which was hastily inscribed on the front.

"Nathan honey, there's a letter on the table for you."

"I know, Ma", my voice shook, the anticipation rippling through my words. I placed the recycled brown envelope into my left palm, reading the bold, black letters which attacked the front.

Nathy.