SPEAK UP: END DOMESTIC VIOLENCE.
I sat on the chair beside his bed and watched the man who promised to love me eternally cuddle my best friend. I fought the urge to strike them a death blow with my favorite shoe that lay carelessly on the floor. It was obvious she had adorned her feet with my beautiful pink stiletto shoe. I fought the tears that burned my eyes, my husband had gifted me those shoes to mark my birthday last year and yet he had the guts to give them to his mistress. The pink shoe reminded me of events, events I didn't want to remember. I flinched as I thought of the conspicuous cut on my face I was blessed with on that day, the scar on my face was always a constant reminder of the beating I received in the hands of my dear husband on my 34th birthday. I looked at him snoring like a pig with disgust written all over my face, I felt nothing but hatred for him. In fact the love I had for him had diminished with each passing day until i finally grew cold and had no emotions left. All I felt in my heart ...