I shouldn’t wish anyone dead. I shouldn’t check to see if her name is listed among the obituaries, hoping she has finally claimed her spot in the morgue, but my heart is angry right now. I am angry. I woke angrier than when I went to sleep.

Death is cruel to those who are left behind. It tears at us, bites down and doesn’t let go. What should have been goes to worms and flies. Death robs us, yet I wonder why she should continue living.

This anger of wishing them dead for what they’ve done isn’t healthy, not even a little bit.

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