She was not responsible for anything,  not even her passive aggressive madness.

She dug herself into a soul burning hole of misery, and ruthlessly blamed the world.

Subconsciously she vowed to make the whole planetary existence live with her in the fires of hell that were her crazy head.

She tyrannized and ruled by cruelty to make others suffer more than she, so that she might find comfort that they hurt more than she felt.

Just because she could.

She was entitled.

Because she was the preachers wife.

Excerpt from my unpublished, unfinished horror novel that I’ll probably never write- The Madness of the Preacher’s Wife.