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As her body grew silent, her breath motionless. No more moans of pain. I felt as if I could see her spirit rise from her body. I should have felt some sort-of sadness however, only joy came from her death. A single tear of joy fell from my eyes as the family looked on with pity for me.

I loved her she was my soul mate, but in her last years, I could not stand to be near her. I could not stand to watch her body deteriorate before my eyes. Knowing that I could do nothing to stop her illness.

In the beginning, I believed that I would be her medicine. I would help her smile when the pain hit. I would help ease her mind from the inevitable end that would befall her. However, after watching her grow weaker I knew that I would have to help her with the simplest of tasks. Her orders seemed to please me at first, feeling that I could be of some help.

However, as time went on they would start to burden me. Every day spent with her taking her to the bathroom, spoon-feeding her meals. Cleaning her withered body before the smell got too strong.

Visitors looked at me with whispers of admiration. I would hear them say how amazing I am for taking on this task. I ate it up, all the praise, all the compliments. Everyone marveled at how much of a wonderful person I was.

Oh if they only knew how I hated it. Now it is all over. The day has come and, I have rejoiced. I shall surely go to hell for these feelings in me. I cover her face with the sheet and now can begin my life again as what would seem to be a free woman. I do pray that she is in a better place and that she is no longer in pain. However, to see the walls outside of this place will be a blessing. Yes, I shall surely go to hell for these feelings.

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