I cant believe how it happened. Her mother did everything she could to push her daughter out of the world.
My dearest friend was Emily Harris. Wed been inseparable for years, and she often confided how hard life felt. She blamed it on twenty years of living with her husband and her mother under the same roof.
Eleanor Barker was the exact sort of woman who exploited anyone around her, even her own child. Nothing ever went her way. Emilys grandmother was eightyfive, yet surprisingly spry for her age.
Eleanor constantly acted as if Emily owed her everything, especially after her husband left when she was pregnant and found another woman. All her anger was poured onto Emily, who so closely resembled her father.
Emily was never treated as a beloved daughtermore like a servant, a cleaner, a slave, but never a child. She juggled two jobs, and when she got home she scrubbed floors and cooked meals. Her mother refused to lift a finger at home and often sulked when Emily prepared a dish she didnt like. In the end, the poor girl quit one of her jobs and moved to the other side of Manchester just to serve her mothers whims.
That day was Emilys birthday. We gathered around the table, where she had laid out a wonderful spread, but I noticed a deep sadness in her eyes. She whispered that a scandal had erupted with her mother, and soon after we all left early.
The next morning I learned that Emily had vanished. It turned out that after we left, Eleanor sparked another confrontation. Emilys heart gave out, and no one called an ambulance. She died that night, a victim of her mothers relentless cruelty.
In the end, the tragedy showed that love cannot be forced or bought with money; true care must be given freely, or it will crush the very soul it pretends to protect.
