Chapter Thirty-Nine


hated the mental-home even more than being confined to a cell in the prison.
Wandering around a group of made strangers while you waited to go insane was
worse than sitting, drawing burning crosses on cell walls.

also received hate mail and newspaper cuttings from people who were disgusted
by her.

particular letter went like this;



You disgust me, you faithless child of Satan. The minute you
stopped believing in God, you started killing. You deserve to be dead. I’d kill
you myself but I wouldn’t dirty my hands on your filthy, killer’s skin. The people
you killed were proper, God-fearing people with everything to live for.

You are
nothing but filth.

I hope you
die a slow, painful death,

You have a
place in the dirt,

Amille Trent

The End

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