Blood Borne Connections – Chapter 12

Blood Borne Connections - book cover


Chapter 12

‘My transformation – Taťána to Tatiana’


When I was fifteen, I used to help the teachers in the orphanage teach English and History to the children. I knew that I wanted to be a teacher and I hoped to take some examinations and train as a teacher. My little sister, Tereza, was eight years old and had long ago forgotten our parents. I tried to remind her with photographs but she would shake her head and call me her mother, “Matka Tata”, I tried to get her to call me sister but she would shake her head and say, “No Sestra Tata, Matka Tata” – she reminded me of my mother – strong minded.

The orphanage was a good and safe place managed by Mrs. Izabela Svobodová. She was like a guardian angel – she really cared about us children and never hid her feelings. We used to hear horror stories of different orphanages in Europe where the children were treated very badly. Some had terrible buildings where children would literally freeze in winter and some had buildings with no windows so that when it rained, inside would get wet. We heard stories of girls driven out of orphanages when they were sixteen and ending up as prostitutes. We heard stories of overcrowded orphanages where the children were not cared for properly, not educated and were bullied or beaten regularly by the workers. We didn’t have any of that at our orphanage. We were treated well, given respect and love and told to treat other people respectfully and with love (to love our neighbor as our self).

Mrs. Svobodová would not stand for bullying or ill treatment of the children by any worker and for this I loved her as I would a favorite aunt if I had one. The day she was suddenly taken ill and had to be taken by ambulance to a hospital in Prague was a sad day for all of us. We had a new woman come in to manage the orphanage called Mrs. Mertle. She told us that she was from Poland and had lived in Czechoslovakia for over twenty years. She said she had so many new ideas for the orphanage which she would immediately implement because she didn’t think that Mrs. Svobodová would survive her illness. The first thing I noticed about her was what I can only describe as bleak ‘hollowness’. Maybe I am wiser now and I am looking back in hindsight and this makes me critical of her actions. The truth is if I am critical of her actions then what should I say about my own?

It was on a Wednesday that the lady from America came to the orphanage. She came in a big car that most of us had never seen before and she wore a big hat that none of us had ever seen before. Her blonde hair shone in the sun and her clothes looked like she had stepped off the page of one of the contraband American fashion magazines which Mr. Kovář, our head gardener and security man kept in his shed. Tereza said – ‘she looked shiny and new and not real’. Wise words from a little girl!

“She wants to take five girls who can speak and understand English very well back to America and give them a chance of a better life, a life free from communism.”

Even now those words still haunt me. They still manage to pierce my soul, to unpick a healing wound in my heart and lay it bare for all types of infections to invade – to shatter me! I wish that I had never heard those words spoken by Mrs. Mertle that day. I wish that the American lady had never come to the orphanage. With all my heart I wish that Mrs. Svobodová had never taken ill and had to leave the orphanage. But what good is wishing? I could wish until I was blue in the face and nothing would have changed.

Back then, I thought I was one of the chosen, one of the selected few. All five of us went around looking down on the other children – we acted like we were better than them. There were over ten girls between fifteen and sixteen who could speak and understand English but I had been chosen because in my head I was special. My mother had talked about leaving Czechoslovakia and going to the West and I was going to live her dream. The American lady told us that we would either be adopted by a good American family or be able to live in an American orphanage. She said that she had a lot of contacts in America; she knew people in modeling agencies and wealthy people who were looking for European nannies or au pairs who would be happy with us because we were all pretty and once we were eighteen we could get jobs. We would be able to help our brothers or sisters by sending them money for a ticket so they would one day join us in America. At the time I didn’t think it strange that the five of us selected all had a brother or a sister in the orphanage. In fact Mrs. Mertle said that this was an added bonus as we were securing a bright future for our siblings. The thought of leaving Tereza broke my heart but the thought of having a better life in America and one day sending for her to come and live with me consoled me. I told myself that I was not only doing this for Tereza, I was doing this for mama and papa as well.

Within days our paperwork was organized and we were set to go. I asked my best friend, Leona, to look after Tereza for me and promised to write to her every week. Leona begged me not to leave the orphanage, she said that she had had a dream that the communist regime would end before 1990. She also said that she had a bad dream about the American woman but I refused to listen to her. Leona was always having dreams; we sometimes teased her and called her ‘Leona Josephina the dreamer’. We often told her she was like Joseph in the Bible who was always dreaming and annoying his brothers and like Joseph she had been sent to annoy us. She would retaliate by telling us that Joseph’s dreams came true and that God speaks to people through dreams. She was so serious when she told me that I should stay in Czechoslovakia and wait for a few more years. She insisted that things would get better, we would be older and wiser and then we could all go to America or England or Canada, anywhere we wanted to go. She reminded me that we were the four musketeers, me, her, Tereza and Eduard, Leona’s little brother. We had made a vow that we would always stay together and I was now breaking that vow. She cried and begged me for two days but I wouldn’t listen. In the end to get some peace and quiet I told her she was just jealous that she hadn’t been chosen. You should have seen her face; it was like I had hit her with a baseball bat. I have been hit with a baseball bat in America several times so I know what it feels like. On the day I left Czechoslovakia I begged Leona to forgive me. I knew she would take care of Tereza but I didn’t want to leave in the middle of a fight with her. She is a good Christian and she said that she had already forgiven me. We hugged and cried and hugged some more. I kissed and hugged Tereza and hugged Eduard (he tried to be a brave little boy but I saw the tears in his eyes). My own tears blinded me as I climbed into the bus that would take us across Europe to our ultimate destination – America.


Ebooks from GLL Publishing available at Amazon, Smashwords etc – Books also available via

Despite all odds: A Dream Fulfilled Part 1

Despite all odds: A Dream Fulfilled Part 2

Truths, Lies And Untold Secrets

Blood Borne Connections

U Murder U (Suicide) 




Blood Borne Connections – Chapter 8

Blood Borne Connections - book cover



Chapter 8


“Are Catholics Christians?” Dorothy asked.

Julius studied her for a moment not sure where her question was leading. “Why do ask?”

“My husband used to hit me, abuse me, lie to me and cheat on me. Each time I told him that he wasn’t behaving like a Christian he would say that he wasn’t a Christian, he was a Catholic. I’m a Christian and I thought that Catholics were Christians. I used to pray and pray to God to make him change, to make him love me the way I loved him but God didn’t change him . . . nothing changed him.”

“I’m a Christian and I was raised in the Catholic Church. Last time I checked, Catholics are Christians. My wife grew up in a Pentecostal Church. I find it more charismatic than the church I grew up in but they more or less preach the same thing. I believe it’s all about one God, one Word and one Love – it’s not about a denomination. People think a church is just a building what they don’t see is that the real church is the people inside the building and it doesn’t even end there, it’s also about the relationship those people have with God. We are supposed to do the right thing, not by force but because we want to. We all have free will and we get to make our own choices. It’s because of free will that God doesn’t force people to change. I believe that God creates situations for people to change but ultimately it’s down to the individual.”

“You asked me if I killed my husband, the truth is he killed me . . . he took my life and destroyed it.”

“Give me your hand.”


“My mom used to do this to me when I was younger and I used to think that things were hopeless. Come on, give me your hand and look at me.”

She reluctantly gave him her hand and looked into his eyes. He sat holding her hand and looking at her. Without breaking eye contact, he picked up his coffee cup and placed it on her hand. It took a few seconds for what he had done to register. He smiled when he saw her frown, snatch her hand away then jump back startled and rub her hand.

“Owww, what . . . why did you do that?”

“Do what? I thought you said you’re husband killed you. If you were dead you wouldn’t have felt that.”

“You burned me to show me that I’m still alive?”

“No, I burned you to show you that you’re not dead. Where there is life there is hope and where there is hope there is usually a long rope to use with faith and climb out of a situation. You said your husband abused you and hurt you and that you prayed and prayed for God to change him. Did it ever occur to you that God heard your prayers when you first prayed and that maybe God has changed something in your life, maybe He has changed you?”

Moments passed as she stared at him; his words brought clarity to her soul – tears glistened in her eyes. “I didn’t kill him,” she finally sobbed, “God knows I wanted too. I had the knife in my hand and I was ready to stick it into his heart but I thought about his mother and what it would do to her. How my using the knife might hurt her.”

“I don’t understand,” Julius frowned.

“I was standing above him when I looked at the knife. In the middle of all the madness in my head the knife seemed to have a bizarre calming effect on me. You see, it was part of a set his mother had given to me for Christmas some years ago. I really care about his mother; she has always been kind to me. I’m an orphan and his mother is the closest thing to a mother I ever had. She told me to leave him when he first started to hit me but I wouldn’t. I had this strange thought when I was looking at the knife – if I stabbed him and he died his mother would think that I hated her, not because I had killed her son but because I had used the knife she had given me. I didn’t want her feeling bad so I stabbed the pillow next to his head. I was about to leave when I thought I’d better move the knife away from his head in case he turned in his sleep and cut himself. I tried to get the knife out of the pillow and ended up cutting my hand and getting blood all over the pillow and bed sheets; there was so much blood everywhere. Then I had this idea. I knew that he was paranoid about being abducted by aliens. His mother told me once that when he was younger she had to work most nights and his father had to watch him, his brother and sister. Well, his father would bring women to the house when she was at work. Nigel used to get up some nights and wander around half asleep so his father told him that if he didn’t stay in his room aliens would get him. He would tell Nigel horror stories of how aliens had taken people away and experimented on them by eating their brains. His father was a mean man. I guess theirs is the case of like father like son. For some reason Nigel kept on wandering around in the middle of the night half asleep, so one night his irate father decided to teach him a lesson. He put foil paper all over the basement, draped some dummies with silver material and placed some flickering lights around the room then he carried a sleeping Nigel from his bed to the basement and put him on sheets stained with red ‘blood-like’ paint and locked him in there. Nigel woke up and thought that he had been abducted by aliens. He banged on the door for hours but his father refused to let him out. That night traumatized him. He never left his bed at night again. Now he hates the color silver and flickering colored lights and he can’t touch foil paper without hyperventilating-”

“Are you serious?”

She nodded, “Guess how I found out?”


“One day in the early days of our marriage, this is going back a few years, I made him a sandwich and wrapped it in foil paper to keep it fresh. I left it on a dish by the window because he was having a nap. It must have been about thirty or so minutes later when I heard him screaming and shouting. I ran upstairs to see what was going on and found him cowering on the floor next to our bed. Somehow, the sun and a mirror on the wall were reflecting light off the foil paper and different colored lights were flickering on the wall. When I managed to calm him down he told me he thought the aliens had come to get him again then he cried like a baby and insisted I get rid of the foil alien on the dish. To keep him calm I played along and made a big effort of putting on some rubber gloves, un-wrapping the sandwich and holding the foil at a distance as I took it out of the room. I called his mom afterwards and she explained what his dad had done when he was a boy. That’s why I did what I did today.”

“What did you do?”

“I capitalized on his fear. I had a stash of foil paper which I scattered around the room. I put some on the pillow next to him and left the knife lying in the blood on the sheets. I figured that his drug-induced mind would take care of the rest. He was always using drugs. He would spike Indian hemp with LSD or heroin. I used to think that the drugs made him mean but I think that he was just born that way. When you marry someone you never expect they’ll end up hating you.” She paused as she struggled to control her emotions, “I used to be so scared of the thought that ‘he hated me’ that I buried my head in the sand. I was desperate for love and affection, I did everything he asked me to do but he still hated me.” She froze when she realized that she was being held gently in strong arms.

“You’re free,” Julius told her. “Hate has no power over you as long as you don’t hate in return. I learned that lesson years ago. His hate has nothing to do with you and everything to do with him. You could have killed him but you didn’t; you made the choice not to – despite his hate. He can’t hurt you any more, Dorothy.”

“Nigel said I was a reject because I grew up in an orphanage. He said that I was useless and no one would ever love me. He said that I was a dumb hill-billy. He said-”

“Shhhh, shhhh, forget about what he said about you. What do you say? What do you see when you look in the mirror?”

“I don’t understand.”

“When you look in the mirror do you see the person he says you are or do you see you?”

She shrugged.

“Do you want to know what I see?”

Again she shrugged.

“I see you. I see a strong, attractive and very smart woman. You’re compassionate and loveable. My wife has nothing but good things to say about you and I trust and respect her judgment. I say you’ve been through the worst, now, you deserve the best. You just have to see and believe that things can and will get better for you, Dorothy.”

“How . . . how do I do that?”

“Start by thinking of his words as poison and detox your mind of them, get rid of all the negative hurtful things he said and did to you – then take one new day at a time.”

She looked at him, desperate and confused, “I want that so badly, I just don’t know how to do that.” Silent tears coursed down her face.

Julius studied her for a few moments, “When I was seven years old my maternal grandfather told me something that I have never forgotten. He said thousands of years ago there was a man who was really old and he didn’t have any children but he had great faith in God. One night God took this man outside and told him to look up at the sky and try to count the stars in the sky. Even though this man was old and his wife was also old and past child-bearing age, God told him that he would give him as many descendants as there were stars in the sky. My grandfather said when the man looked up at the sky that night because of his faith he could see how many descendants he was going to have, they were like lights shining in the sky, but not only that – he could see me. My grandfather said I was one of those stars and I had to believe that I was created to be a light and help others. You were one of those stars, Dorothy, and you have to believe you were created to be a light and help others. Darkness and negativity can’t survive in the light – so let go of all the things that have caused you so much pain and embrace the happiness you deserve. With the happiness comes love and the need to help others, I can see it in you, you just have to see it as well.”

“I don’t understand?”

“With all that you’ve been through, you took the time to help my wife and son Dorothy. I can see the goodness in you and I will do whatever it takes to make you see it as well, whatever it takes.”

 Unbeknown to Dorothy, Julius had just spoken words that laid the foundation for a change in the course of her life.

Dorothy felt an unfamiliar feeling take over her – people who knew her, like her mother-in-law and Juanita, had told her similar things in the past but she had thought that they were just being kind. This stranger had nothing to gain and didn’t have to be kind. He didn’t have to hold her in his arms until she stopped shaking. He didn’t have to comfort her as she cried. He didn’t have to say things to her that made her believe her life could change . . . but he did. “Now I know why Cara married you,” she said after a while.

Ebooks from GLL Publishing available at Amazon, Smashwords etc – Books also available via

Despite all odds: A Dream Fulfilled Part 1

Despite all odds: A Dream Fulfilled Part 2

Truths, Lies And Untold Secrets

Blood Borne Connections

U Murder U (Suicide)




GLL Publishing’s Teenage Suicide Prevention Campaign – 31,000 Schools Contacted!

                                                                               GLL Publishing 2015
U Murder U (Suicide): Shocking Novel From GLL Publishing Depicts Raw Reality of Suicide; Urging Readers to Keep Living…
Gladys Lawson’s ‘U Murder U (Suicide)’ tells the harrowing yet gripping story of ten youths whose own secret suicide pact serves as the catalyst for an epidemic of similar events across London. Lawson’s work as a mentor to young people has raised alarming flags about humanity’s disposition to suicide, inspiring her to write a book aimed at preventing this tragic “way out”. Fusing her story with fiction, Lawson also mentions groups and organisations that can help people work through their problems instead of taking drastic actions they will never be able to reverse.See Book Review:
Gladys Lawson
Email with promotional code TTS00247 for discounted copies of U Murder U (Suicide).
The statistics are impossible to hide from; each year approximately one million people die from suicide, a number up 60% in the past four decades. Whether an unplanned impulse or carefully-choreographed action, the damage of suicide can never be undone. In her compelling new novel, Gladys Lawson tackles this subject with the raw brevity that few authors dare.
‘U Murder U (Suicide)’ fuses fact with fiction to ultimately urge readers to seek therapy over death; to understand that there’s always light through life’s darkest moments. The ten young protagonists in the novel failed to see this – and the consequences are more than chilling.
Why did ten young people wake up one morning and convene at a Central London Hospital to take part in a suicide pact? What possessed them to do this? What possessed them to drink a concoction of stolen hospital drugs mixed with chemicals, the mixture so strong that it dissolved their innards in minutes? They died in so much pain – their dead faces were literally gargoyle in agony as blood oozed out of their orifices.
When it is discovered that this is possibly the first of many suicide pacts scheduled to take place the TTS taskforce and the police find themselves in a race against time to break the code and find the locations of other suicide pacts before more people die!
“While this is a fictional thriller, the book has every intention of affecting real change,” explains Lawson, who has produced her novel in both a black and red cover. “U Murder U (Suicide) directly exposes the many reasons people commit suicide and takes an active stab at trying to prevent it.”
The book mentions some of the groups that can help those who feel that their options in life are becoming limited.
Lawson says: “Ultimately, I want people to know that they have an alternative – and that’s to keep living, to get help to heal their wounds and to enjoy life in abundance.”
‘U Murder U (Suicide)’, from GLL Publishing, is available at Amazon now:
The novel can also be purchased directly from the publisher: Page:
The release of the much anticipated fictional thriller U Murder U (Suicide) by GLL Publishing coincides with GLL Publishing’s Talk To Someone (TTS) Campaign. The TTS Campaign is geared at preventing suicide by encouraging people to get help by talking to someone at the many Charities and Healthcare facilities set up to help them.


U Murder U (Suicide) – Red Cover-1U Murder U (Suicide) – blackCover-1


U Murder U (Suicide)


8 year old Shane’s story – Taken from novel ‘U Murder U (Suicide)’

The Tenth Person

Shane Nelson read once that thousands of children under the age of 10 were depressed. He asked his mother why this was and she said it was because they didn’t think of anyone else but themselves. That these children were being raised not to care about anyone but just what they could get from everyone and when they couldn’t get something they became depressed. She said in her day she had one doll and a few colouring books when she was his age and she was happy with her lot. Shane wasn’t sure if he was depressed, he knew he got things his brothers and sisters didn’t get but he was unhappy. His father gave him everything and the rest of the family nothing. He knew his brothers and sisters hated him and his mother was always scared. He was torn, he loved his mother but he also loved his father. He had tried to hate his father for his siblings’ sake but found he couldn’t. His home was a time-bomb and he hated living there. The only thing that made him happy now was talking to Jessy James 6 online.

On The Day Of The Suicide Pact

Shane had tried to get away from his brothers and sisters earlier but for some reason they kept watching him. They made him go on the roof with them and they shared their chicken and chips with him – something they had never done in the past. In the past they usually relegated him to wherever they were not, it didn’t really matter where; he was ‘Daddy’s favourite’ and a snitch, as such he was the enemy.
Robbie, Shane’s eldest brother, gave him some money and asked him to get two bottles of cola from the local shop as there was a ‘buy one get one free’ offer there. Robbie wanted to smoke and didn’t want Shane to see him and take that information back to his father. Eager to leave, Shane took the money and left his siblings on the roof.

Shane Nelson ran as fast as he could with Robbie’s money in his hand. Jessy James 6 had given him specific directions to where she was in the hospital and he was determined to get there on time. He had never ventured further than his school, which was less than a ten minute slow walk from his home, by himself before but today he was going to get to the hospital using the map on his phone for directions.

Shane walked through the hospital reception without being stopped by anyone. Jessy James 6 had said that security wasn’t that tight. He walked right to the back of the ground floor and took the lift to the third floor following the instructions she had sent him. He saw an Indian girl looking at a notice board for directions then he saw her walk with confidence towards the direction of Livingston Ward. Shane waited a few moments then followed her. As soon as he walked into the room on Livingston Ward he noticed that there were more people that he thought there would be. Suddenly he felt scared and wanted to leave. He felt something in his hand and looked down, it was Robbie’s money. He looked around gingerly; the Indian girl he had seen earlier was writhing and withering on the ground, an empty cup next to her.

Jessy James 6 handed him a cup. He looked at her cold eyes and thought that she looked different from how he had imagined her. He took the cup of poison from her . . . . . .

U Murder U (Suicide)



I Survived Suicide – Taken from the fiction novel ‘U Murder U (Suicide)’

When I was faced with death I didn’t really want to die! 

“I used to cut my arms with a dirty razor blade because I hoped that I would get an infection and die. One day I ended up in hospital with septicaemia and nearly died. The funny thing was when I was faced with the possibility of death, I didn’t want to die. My parents contacted TTS and a counsellor came to see me in the hospital. It was weird; it was a bit like in the Matrix movie where Neo was told to choose a pill. I was told to choose life over death and that in order for me to get over my own problems I should try and help other people.

My counsellor took me to the children’s cancer unit in the hospital and showed me some children who had various stages of cancer. Suddenly, my trying to kill myself because my boyfriend had dumped me seemed so pathetic and incomprehensible. My TTS counsellor kept in touch with me for weeks, she checked that I was going to school and spoke to my parents about any concerns for me they might have. She still calls me and still makes sure that I focus on my dreams and work towards them. I want to become a scientist and help people with cancer get better. I go to the cancer ward every week and I love talking to the children there and taking them on trips with the hospital staff. I love that they are fighters and want to live and I thank God every day for the man who talked to my mom at work two days before I tried to kill myself and gave her and her work colleagues the TTS card with their emergency number on it. You know what’s strange, my mom said he was a Black man but one of her work colleagues insists he was an Oriental man while another said he was a White man. My mom says that she had never seen him before and she has not seen him since, she thinks his name was P. Holister but she isn’t sure. I know he was a God-send and I now see that life is precious and when I was faced with death I didn’t really want to die.”

Taken from U Murder U (Suicide)

From Author:

Some people don’t believe that their life is precious, they base their life on what they feel and what they don’t feel 

Purple Flower white writing

There is no return from suicide. Sadly some teenagers think that they’ll commit suicide to punish someone or make someone sorry then they’ll come back to life. It doesn’t work like that.

GLL Publishing is promoting the Talk To Someone (TTS) Campaign because we believe that like in the case of the young girl in the story above, if we can get a person talking to someone in one of the many charities like CALM, Samaritans, NSPCC, PAPYRUS etc in order for them to get help then we can potentially help save a life.

Join us by liking and sharing our Self-Awareness campaign photos – together we can help someone who needs help.

Gladys x





Aisha Patel’s Story – Taken from the new fictional thriller U Murder U (Suicide)

Why did ten young people wake up one morning and convene at a Central London Hospital to take part in a suicide pact? What possessed them to do this? What possessed them to drink a concoction of stolen hospital drugs mixed with chemicals, the mixture so strong that it dissolved their innards in minutes? They died in so much pain – their dead faces were literally gargoyle in agony as blood oozed out of their orifices. From back blurb of U Murder U (Suicide).

14 year old Aisha Patel was one of the young people at the hospital that morning – this is her story. 

Aisha Patel had a dream – she wanted to study medicine. She was fourteen years old and knew exactly where she wanted to study medicine and what she wanted to specialise in when she finished her basic training. Her paternal grandmother had died of breast cancer last year and Aisha had spent a lot of time with her grandmother before her demise and had seen firsthand how great the Macmillan nurses had been with her grandmother and how the doctors at the hospital had taken good care of her. She told her grandmother of her dream and her grandmother had given Aisha her blessing and told Aisha that she could be whatever she dreamed. When her grandmother had died Aisha felt like a part of her had also died because her parents and three brothers never seemed to have time for her. Being the third child it was easy to get lost and be invisible. In her family boys were valuable and girls were useful (for cooking, cleaning, ironing, washing, usually a lot of domestic things ending in – ing). In her family: The first child, a boy, was a blessing; the second child, another boy another blessing; the third child, a girl; and the fourth child another boy, yet another blessing. Being the third child and a girl – it was easy to stay lost and be invisible.  

   Aisha knew something wasn’t right on the day her father hit her. There had been a lot of whispering prior to that day and each time Aisha stepped into a room her parents and older brothers were in, the whispering voices would get lower and lower until they fizzled out. It showed the amount of regard her family had for her, they didn’t bother to stop whispering, they just made sure she couldn’t hear what was being said and continued. On the day her father hit her, the whispering stopped and the innuendos started –

“Aisha, you must learn to wash clothes by hand now.”

“Aisha, don’t waste food you never know tomorrow.”

She didn’t understand them. She hoped that if her dreams came true and she became a doctor they would like her and maybe be proud of her; she didn’t dare to hope for their love.

On the day her father hit her, one of her aunts had presented her with a silk sari and a gold necklace. She had wondered why as it wasn’t her birthday and she wasn’t aware of any ceremonies that were imminent.

Diary Entry: “My Aunty Mira gave me a sari today with a gold necklace. It’s really pretty and I thanked her with a big hug and kisses. She looked at me sadly and smiled. She told me to be brave. I don’t know why she said that and she wouldn’t tell me what she meant. I like Aunty Mira, she is one of my favourite aunties, she married into our family and isn’t like the rest of them.”

Later that day Aisha understood what her aunt had meant. Her parents called her into the front room and told her that they were taking her to India to get married. They had so little regard for her that they didn’t trick her or lie to her like some parents did to get their daughters on the plane. Those parents told their daughters that they were going to visit granny, or going for a wedding, or going for a relaxing holiday. When they got to India they took their daughter’s passport and married her off.

Aisha’s father (he spoke for the family) simply told her they were tired of looking after her and one day she would eventually leave them and get married anyway so they were hastening the event as they saw no need to procrastinate. Her father liked to use big words when he thought he was talking to little people. Aisha had never refused to do anything her parents had asked her to do in the past but as she saw her dream of studying medicine developing wings and attempting to fly away from her right before her eyes, she spoke out and refused to get married. Her father had hit her – he had never hit her before but then she had never refused to do what she had been told to do before.  

 Aisha had found the suicide chat room by chance on the morning of the suicide pact, which was the day after her father had hit her. When she saw the date and time that the event was to take place she saw it as a sign, an omen sent to save her. She knew her family didn’t love her and never had and she wanted to be with the only person who did, her grandmother. . . . 


Author: The statistics are impossible to hide from: each year approximately one million people die from suicide. It is my hope that U Murder U (Suicide) while a fictional thriller, will affect real change and prevent this from continuing to happen.

GLL Publishing the publisher of U Murder U (Suicide) has started a campaign called the Talk To Someone (TTS) Campaign which it hopes will get people talking about issues and not suffer in silence. There are so many charities and medical facilities geared towards helping people see that life is worth living and tomorrow can be better than today!