Sometimes truth is stranger than fiction. Sometimes life deals us a bad hand. Sometimes it is hard to go on. Sometimes evil triumphs over good.
Nancy sighed heavily as she pulled her daughters diary from the drawer. She learned forward to examine the familiar writing. A postcard with a coloured sketch fell onto the floor from the book. The drawing was a picture of a long curved sandy beach on a tropical island, of course it would be Montserrat. She felt clumsy as she knelt to retrieve the picture. Under no circumstances could she forgive or forget the criminals who tortured her beautiful Megan. It was difficult not to feel bitter about the events of the preceding year. She grabbed a tissue to wipe away the tears that came to her eyes. She had shed so many tears in the past year since her daughters murder. Nancy recognized that she was suffering from psychological problems and had really become indifferent to the events in her daily life. She began to shake and then to weep. When would there be an answer to this damn nightmare.
Megan had attended secondary school at a private girls school five hundred kilometers from home. In junior school she had been a straight A student. Now in high school she continued to study hard, play sports, join the school orchestra, plus a variety of school clubs. As a joke, her friends labeled her a genius, often just to make her angry. As well as being a high academic achiever she had a great capacity for run. She thrived on an active social life. Slender, pretty and vivacious, she was the apple of her parents eye.
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