• A little after this I went on to collage, depressed and unsure of
    what path to chose. There I met the love of my life, Vash Alacard Vinici,
    and soon started talking about marriage, though I had yet to tell him I
    could not bear a single child. We had many conversations but it all ended
    the same, I'd pretend that I didn't want any. I know I shouldn't have
    lied but in a way I wanted to let him keep his false hope. I knew I had
    to tell him but the longer I waited the harder it got. After awhile he stopped
    talking about it (I guess hoping I'd change my mind when we got
    married) and then one of the two happiest days was set into motion,
    before all the pain, tournament, and torture. On August the 15th Vash
    proposed. I didn't know what to say I was so... I don't know I guess.
    I was so happy that I couldn't speak so I gave him a quick nod, so he wouldn't get
    too worried. And we got married a couple months later (the second happy
    day I was speaking of). We got married on Valentines day, of all days,
    and by this time I was about 21. I lived life as happy as anyone could
    ever be. So one day I decided to take the plunge and tell him, everything.
    To my surprise, he took it well, but I was so emotional I was crying. He
    held me and of course knew just how to make me feel better, he gently
    brushed his fingers through my hair knowing it would calm me down. He
    whispered "It's ok sweetheart, you'll be fine now, I’m here baby" in his
    soothing, soft, kind, loving voice.
    His fingers wiped away the tears, as if he were protecting my eyes from the tears bulging in them. He gently kissed my lips and tried reassuring me by saying "There's always adoption". But that was the point, I wanted my own child. Was that too much to ask. I guess it was because my bliss didn't last very long. After a year, exactly, he had a tragic accident and left me in this place all alone. One night on his way home from school (I was sick that morning so I stayed home) he was car jacked. Unfortunately the carjacker's mask had come off during the time of the robbery so they killed him. It turns out that the men were caught anyway, but were let off due
    to their mental state. Apparently, after years of drug abuse your mind goes
    away and you do things you wouldn't do in a million years.
    Needless to say I was infuriated. They killed my husband because they were on a bad acid trip and people feel sorry because the trauma they endured when they were kids caused them to turn to drugs! What about me?! The grieving
    22 year old widow. Where's my justice in this, or better yet, where's my
    husband's justice? So what if they had it hard, everyone does! That gives
    them no right to murder. But I could blame no one for this. There is no
    one to blame even if I searched for years I couldn't justify blaming this on
    anyone, but that didn't mean I wasn't a mess.