Page 219 - The Houseguest

It took profound misfortune for me to truly grasp that life is so much more than money. I only wish I could have known that before. Having been born into money, it was just a way of life for me, what my world revolved around. I was a shallow, self-centered rich girl not by choice, but by birth and fostering. There are no ways to prepare for what life will give to you and take from you. The lesson I’ve learned that I rely on most is that the only way to move forward is to never look back. I no longer allow my mistakes to define me.
During my 21 days in captivity, my captor forced me to read the writings of his deceased wife, a poet. But, reading her words didn’t inspire me as was his intention. Instead, they saddened me beyond anything I’d ever felt, though I pretended they changed me forever presuming that’s what would please the madman. The intense sorrow I felt was not solely because my actions had caused this woman’s death, but was also that between the lines of the words she’d penned, I sensed a joylessness. For all outward appearances, it seemed she had the perfect life. And yet, her poems were not centered around bliss and pleasure, but more worry and regret. I wondered as I read, if she ever truly experienced inner peace.
I consider myself an expert on inner peace, never having found it myself until after the birth of my daughter, Katie. As you read on, you will discover that I named my daughter after the little girl I killed, and I’m sure some will criticize me for that. But this was my way to honor her life, and to remind me to cherish every precious day we spend together.
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The Houseguest by Linda Ellis www.LindaEllis.life