It was a cold, dull day.
Even though it was sunny outside, it was still cold and dark to her.
Mary West could not come out of her room. She had locked herself up since the previous day when she had found her daughter's corpse hanging on the ceiling. She completely froze at the horrific sight. If it had not been for her husband holding her hand firmly, she would have fell on the bare ground. Weak.
She wallowed in self-guilt. She was miserable. If it was not for Boris, she would have probably followed in the footsteps of her daughter and left this wretched so-called earth.
What would the people say? She asked herself in worry, tears strolling down her eyes. They would probably say she is a pretentious Christian woman. A terrible mother! A mother so terrible that she led her own daugh
