New Beginning: Life After Death?

Death is something we as humans all fear. We all wonder how we will die, when we will die, and where we will go after death. It is a scary thing to think about. I have had to think of death many times throughout my life. I have been physically, mentally, and sexually abused all my life. It got bad enough that I was running for my life on a weekly bases. I am so sorry... I guess I should start at the beginning instead of going on one of my many thought rabbit holes. My name is Maya, and I'm thirty-six years old, and I'm five foot seven inches tall and weigh 135 pounds. I have black hair and light brown eyes with a heart shaped face and an hourglass figure. Some say that I'm pretty, while I don't believe so. I was born on the streets in New Orleans, Louisiana to a fourteen year old girl who couldn't take care of me so my grandmother did her best. As it was found out that a male family member was abusing me, I was put up for adoption. I was then adopted by what seemed like the perfect family but you know the saying, “Out of the frying pot and into the fire?" That was my story for sure. I became the servant, punching bag, and all around magnet for all abuse. My new family consisted of dad, mom, three brothers: Mike, Joey, and Fred, and a sister: Jada. My brothers were all older and were your typical boys. They would rough house and be down right gross but if any outsider tried to mess with either of us girls then they'd have the boy's wrath upon them. Jada was my friend and sister so we got along well. I was so glad that we didn't end up like those stupid clichès where the sisters hate each other. She and I would play together and even share our secrets together. My dad was completely oblivious to what went on at home as he was away all the time working. He would come home and get a reporting from my mom and then dole out punishments to those that he felt needed them. Mainly if he felt that mom's punishment wasn't enough or if she just waited until he got home to punish us. My mom was the main problem growing up. She didn't believe in doctors so she didn't take medication and she had multiple personality disorder. That being said... you could have a completely normal conversation with her and mid sentence she would suddenly start throwing insults or items at you and you'd have no idea where it came from. I was a main target thanks to my mouth. We all had our daily chores and they were given to us on a monthly basis. Now don't get me wrong, I completely agree with chore and believe that they help a child learn life's lessons but there are limitations. For an example: I was then years old and had kitchen duty. That meant that I helped plan the meals, cooked them cleaned kitchen after each meal. I was also supposed to weekly clean the oven and refrigerator as well. Cabinets were to be organized and kept tidy. For a ten year old that was a lot of work on top of school work as well. My sister would have the laundry if I had the kitchen and we'd swapped every month between the two. Both were hard chores and had a lot of different tasks to them. Many times I'd be yelled at, given extra cleaning duties, locked in closets, and even had several instances where my life was threatened due to her randomly switching mid conversation. I will never forget the time when her and I were talking about that weeks food menu and she randomly got up and got a knife and said she was gonna kill me. Needless to say I ran. I ran as fast as I could and got outside and hid until dad came home. She told him I was disrespectful and that I tried to hit her so I got into big trouble for that. After many times of us telling dad what went on, he decided to send me to a friend's house to live. He believed that this would ease the stress to mom for some reason and that I'd then be safe even when he wasn't home. This friend live seven hours away from them and to be honest I was a little upset about it. I felt like I was being punished for her crimes. It took me about a month to get to where I was comfortable at my new home but once that happened I started to really feel like life was looking up for me. By this time I was seventeen and had completed highschool. I started a new job at a butcher shop where I boxed meat and cleaned the place up. It was hard work but not too bad. My sister Jada got engaged to be married to a rich man that lived in San Antonio, Texas when I was seventeen. They had the wedding six months later and my mom being the person she was refused to allow me to be there. I did get to see her and her new husband after the wedding when they were on their way to their honeymoon. She was so happy and he seemed like a great guy. When I turned eighteen I met Randal and we hit it off. Even my new parents enjoyed having him over. We dated for two years before we got engaged and that was when life took a turn. Since I was doing well and was engaged, my old family, who kept in contact with me, decided that I needed to move back with them, mainly my mom. They couldn't force me due to me being an adult but they used manipulation well, and I ended up back at their place. I planned the wedding all by myself since my mom didn't want to have anything to do with it. She believed that nobody wanted me and that I was doomed to failure so she didn't want to plan a wedding that would eventually lead to divorce. So I planned the wedding to perfection and it actually went perfectly. I was completely surprised by that but it happened. The bad parts happened after six months of being married to Randal. You see, I truly believed that he loved me. That because he didn't know my family until after we were engaged that he wouldn't target me for my dad's money or to use me in any way. I was wrong. He started to distance himself from me, and I literally caught my mom, adopted and abusive one, trying to seduce him. He then started to criticize everything from my clothes, style, and even my work ethics.It came to light that he had met Jada before me and fell for her but she was already engaged and didn't feel the same for him. He chose me to get back at her and also because he wanted in my family. I became a shell of who I was supposed to be. I questioned why I couldn't get anything right and if I was even worthy of love. I am ashamed to admit it but it took me losing three pregnancies and hitting rock bottom for me to leave him. At first he laughed at me and told me that I wouldn't make it. When he saw me thriving and he decided to change tactics. He would then tell me that it was my fault for everything and that I needed to change for us to be happy. After fifteen years of trying to make our marriage work, I finally got free of the man. It was tough going, but I was making it. I had a job that I was actually making more than he was. I rented a studio apartment and had a cute little dog call Izzy. I didn't need anything else. I wrote off my adopted parents and only spoke to my brothers and to Jada. I was on my way to meet up with all of them in Amarillo, Texas, as to was the halfway point for all of us, when I hit a terrible snow storm. We were going to meet and eat out for my sister's birthday. In the snow storm, I hit black ice and that brings me back to my rabbit hole thoughts of death. I knew when I hit the ice that I'd die. I was on a bridge in construction and hitting that ice made me barrel through the side of the interstate bridge and fall to my death. What happens after death? I guess I'm going to find out.