“To Forget is To Forgive”

Three years ago I killed someone and I am here to share something with you, my name is Callie Stroman and this is my story.
I looked into its eyes one last time and released the trigger slowly. I refused to call it a human being anymore because it's not. The sound of the bullet still ringed through my ears sort of sounding like a church bell that struck at noon on a Sunday. This isn't a scene you would want to walk into, blood splattered on all four walls to make up this square room. The blood from its body had embellished the room making it look like red paint had splattered on the walls. I felt a sense of relief come up of my shoulders. I felt free. I gained my freedom back from this monster and now I was finally free. It is dead now. I am FREE! No more hurt. I am FREE! No more pain. I am FREE! No more regret. I AM FREE!
As a child, my baby brother and I were the happiest kids alive because we refused to let the bad things show. No matter what was going on at home behind the closed doors we were still happy. My brother Jeremy is the only reason why I stayed at home. As we grew older Jeremy became my protector, my provider, my best friend and my hero. It was suppose to be the other way around because I was older but he beat me to it.
It was only Jeremy and I growing up, we had no other family. It just was us two. Our mother lived with us and made our lives a living hell because she wasn’t happy on the inside; not to mention she abused drugs and alcohol. She was the devil himself except in a red dress and red heels. I hated her so much that it burns me to think about her. I think of the torture, of the beatings and the permanent scars that appear to this day. I feel the bruises appear as if I just received them last night. I feel the beatings that were taken out on me when her boyfriend left her, when she was drunk or high off drugs, when she was mad, or even when she knew her boyfriend were molesting me every night; I can still feel the beatings.
I can still feel the bruises that he left to right along with the pain and hurt. Imagine someone sneaking into your room taking something so precious away from you. Telling you everything will be okay and that this is normal. That it won't hurt and you can't say anything because if you do they will kill your family. I was scared so I didn’t say anything; I wanted to keep Jeremy and my mom alive even though I hated her. Can you even imagine your mom allowing it, her acting like she doesn’t realize what he is doing to you and her not caring? However, you still get the beatings just because she is in denial, but you are the victim. When I finally told Jeremy he totally snapped and stabbed mommy's boyfriend and threatened him not to come back unless he wanted to be murdered. Then, mommy kicked Jeremy out and beat me senseless for the next three days.
Jeremy came to visit and saw what she had done; I saw the sadness in his face. I told him not to worry because these were battle wounds that will make me stronger so that I can win this battle and he started to cry. I told Jeremy that he protected me and now it was my turn to protect him. I gave him the money I been saving up and told him to catch the bus to grandma’s house and I would meet him there. I walked back into the house past my mom and her boyfriend to my room and grabbed my shoebox from under my bed. I walked back out into the living room and stood in front of the TV to block their view. I had kissed the gun, pointed it and let go of the trigger. BOOM!