I woke up feeling groggy. As the room came into focus I saw a gathering of people.

Slowly they came into focus. As I recognised Mrs Richards my heart skipped a beat.

“I am so sorry! I am so sorry, ma’am,” I pleaded.

She smiled back at me, “It’s okay, we all forgive you.”

I scanned the other faces in confusion. I saw Mr Kent, the vicar of the village, his smile mirrored that of Mrs Richards. I looked at the faces of the others who populated the room, their expressions humble and soft; a tear ran down my cheek.

I mustered a smile, “Thank you so much. The forgiveness you have shown me is overwhelming. Thank you.”

I looked at Tim, Mrs Richard’s boy. He stood in front of his mother, her hands on his shoulders. He didn’t smile, he winced.

“I’m sorry, Timmy, I’m sorry what I did to you,” I said as I sobbed.

“Like I said,” she responded, “You are forgiven.”

I laughed, a sense of euphoria enveloped me and I laughed more.

I tried to move, but couldn’t. I looked down and screamed, “Where are my arms?!?! Where are my legs!!!”

“You cannot hurt him anymore, you cannot hurt *anyone* anymore. You are forgiven.”

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