I fear for my life

I am not scared of death but fear the manner in which I will die. After all, there is nothing left for me here.

Given that most, if not all, of my family could not care a damn as to whether I was alive or dead, it follows that the more that I dig and embarrass everyone, the more they are going to get cheesed off with me.

Given my father’s and my brother’s masonic contacts, it is then reasonable to assume that it would not take much for them to want me out of the way permanently.

I am not talking about being shot down in the streets but it would be very easy for someone to break into my house, come into my room and smother me and given the police’s complete indifference to justice, they would not even bother to order a post mortem. After all, I have said that at times, I am so depressed that I would end it myself.

I wonder if my daughter could have that on her conscience, on top of everything else?


Published by David Hender (copyright owner- all rights reserved)

If you want to know me, you first need to understand where I have been and where I am going

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