Without Love What Is There To Live For?

By this time this letter reaches you, my physical body may have either been buried six feet below or lying in state in a funeral parlor or church receiving empty and hallow words of a necrological service.

But my death will never be in vain if you print this letter into your column.

I was a teenage daughter of a ranking government official and like most children of government officials and business executives, I was left to manage my young life.

My father was an honest, dedicated and able public servant. There was no question about his integrity. Everybody knows about that. To show his loyalty to public service, he worked 6a.m. to 11 p.m.everyday from Monday to Saturday. He was indeed a model.

My mother on the other hand, may be bored of not seeing my father except during curfew hours, or maybe she was out to prove something. -joined women's group engaged in civic activities,public service and all sorts of ceremonies and social functions.

As a young girl, I almost have everything in life one would ever dreamed of  and cherish, but one thing; parental love, care and affection.Nothing in this world can replace a parents love and I was absolutely denied of that.

My father never found time to take me out for a vacation where we can freely talk to each other, he was too busy indoctrinating his subordinates and proving to his kind how a fine and ample public servant he was.

Without love, what is there to live for? so I joined the group of young boys and girls for there are tens of thousands-similarly situated to myself. Our parents never forgot a single speaking engagement, and occasions but they forgot their girl's birthday-their children.

I then turned myself to alcohol to forget how unlucky I was, even about to taste drugs and sex and eager to commit crimes to sustain my addiction and to attract my parents attention, but all are in vain. Father bailed out my grievances to others, fixed everything where I was involved and gave me money and pay for persons to look after me when I'm far. He asked me several times what's wrong with me, but he never knew what's wrong with him.

Hopeless as I was in this situation, I decided to wake him up from his endless dream of loyalty, dedication and service. But it must be in a manner of a young but lost generation: death.
I still have a brother though.
I dedicate my death to him. My he be given happiness that I utterly missed.