The title is "No More Tears". It is a prologue to a book regarding domestic violence that I intend writing. It is a true account.

The radio hummed show up several(prenominal) nameless tune that seemed to travel back the beat with rain hitting the windscreen. She sat, fingers tapping on the manoeuvre wheel, waiting for the turning traffic to stop and the green cursor to prognosticate it was her turn. It was then that she felt the hairs on the back of her recognise rise, and a feeling of c experient dread spread crossways her strong body. Turning to the motorcar next to her she precept him. The orbit around her seemed to swim and she struggled to regain her composure. He smilened that same grin that employ to make her blood run c sometime(a) and she saw him verbalise the words that had become a daily little terror cardinal socio-economic classs ago when they were married. youre dead bitch. A car snoot brought her back to the present, and she saw that the green arrow cross t out ensembleed for her and the cars waiting rear end her to turn. With an apologetic roll up to the car behind h er, she turned the recessional and quickly pulled oer to the side of the road. No matter how strenuous she tried, the tears she had held onto straight threatened to spill mess her cheeks, and her throat ached with an unreleased diddly-shit caught there by the fear and hopelessness she felt. Her hands shake so hard she could barely wrap them to brush aside the tears, and her lips quivered with a movement that resembled her four year honest-to-goodnesss mouth when he was chastised for flushing yet another toy down the toilet. This thought brought a small, tremulous smile to her face, and breathing deeply, she pulled herself-importance up straight in the seat and silently vowed that this man had unmake her once, and she would never suspend him that same chance again. She would be... WOW WOW WOW I could almost swear this was my life though i am oftentimes younger ans only ask co mmon chord from that marriage and and now re! mmarried.. my first save is your vilian to a T I was stupid to stay as long as i did and almost cost me my three year honest-to-goodness . just a glimpse of what i have seen a gun pointed at mt four month old daughter and to my head. beaten be yond reconition. such anxiety onslaught no a actually never go out in public. beaten in front of my son that notes box this day still suffer from night terrors and matter meds for. beatting composition pregnat with blinds and steeled toed boots targeting the baby . daughther that talks about putting to death her self a 8 and a new husband that capability not beat me but mental corrupt volition in the end drive me nuts. choices i really have none. choices to save my children or die I chose to count and now live in hiding because he got out on all the mulitude of attacks by saying i vernacular afford my medication for scizo fenia and i fatality help. so this have is going to be great i defintly take a copy and occur people like me in mind. I like it. I forecast you should definitely continue it, and develope it into a novel or something if you can. Its great, although some of the lines you use are soooo typic in almost every novel - consider revising. Hey i just thought of something. Theres a shampoo called no more(prenominal) tears you wouldnt get sued for use that would you? I liked the prologue...it does need work though..its of draft quality. honourable take my suggestions into consideration. I definately conceive of it should be written from inaugural person narration, because it is auto-biographical, and not ordinal person..because it seems to be too take away and doesnt let the auditory modality connect to the story as much as they should If you want to get a full essay, stage it on our website: BestEssayCheap.com

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