No Longer His Doll

I' d spend my life with. He was the youth pastor, so full of light, or so I thought, and his words co

aving town, to marry his "true love," and it wasn' t me. The words echoed in my head

razy, something terrible. I found some local guys, rough types, and paid them to scare Michael, just to s

ong. They went too far. Michae

esia. Except for one thing, one person. Me. He looked at me, his eyes hazy, and sai

acle, a twisted, awful miracle born from my terrible mistake. I clung

en "change of heart" after the accident, his laser focus on me. She tried to

over her worry. I told myself she just didn't understand. Soon after, she died, and the guilt over that, over my last words