After I prepared and submitted my affidavit to the Police on that terrible Friday, I remembered details which I had forgotten because of the trauma I experienced.  Slowly the ink appeared and flowed over the blank pages of the diary in my mind, searching for answers, the why’s and ifs of it all, and over a period I remembered more and more, instinctively knew that the experiences were too important to ignore.

Can people change, and if so, what makes them change?  I started my search, looked into the lives of other families, and put these experiences together:  

I was recently severely traumatized by a young man whom I brought into my life and later into my home.  This, after I went through a search into my past, and realized that nothing had changed - my life was still incomplete.  I needed to make peace, thought that, at last, in helping someone in terrible trouble.  I could do something really worthwhile; give a worthy soul an opportunity of a lifetime.  Selfishly hoping that in doing so, there would be someone left to remember me after the inevitable kind words were said, the ladies from the congregation finished serving the tea and snacks, and the last beers consumed by the few friends I had left behind.

 Not that I, over the years, did not have many family and friends.  There were plenty of us initially, but as in a cricket match, you could only bat for so long.  Eventually some lost their time at the crease and we all know that sooner or later the match would be over, and we would all end up in the same dressing room.

 I was tired, and knew that time was running out, and I had to do something…