As a child, I was known as "Jessica Pelley." When I was nine, I went to a sleepover at a friend's house for the weekend. While I was away, my entire family was murdered. I would spend the next 30 years fighting, crawling, and clawing my way through the darkness. This wasn't just a national news headline, a cold case, or a true crime show. It was my family. And my life. I was the broken little girl left behind to tell this story. I am now "Jessi," in the pages of this unapologetic memoir, set free. *** JESSI - APRIL 29, 2016 April 29, 1989. A date I cannot forget. Numbers forever seared deep into my soul. It was 27 years ago, today. Jesus. Get a grip, Jessi. They’re just numbers. They don’t mean anything. You’re giving them power over you, again. That’s what I tell myself. But the numbers—those damn numbers—they haunt me. They always will. I cannot escape them. Not now. Not ever. For most people, dates are just numbers on a calendar. No big deal. Random markers of time affixed to the top left corner of small, white squares on a page to depict days filled with choices, chances, and opportunities. At least that’s what they are for the normal people. But I’m no longer one of them. For me, they serve as numeric reminders of the girl I used to be. A tragedy that would irrevocably and mercilessly alter the life of a little girl wearing dark blue jeans, canvas lace-up sneakers, and a white tee shirt, accessorized by prominent coke bottle glasses, her hair hanging in a messy bob. Her life would be forever dismantled. Gone. The moment they told me the words. The ones that I will never forget. At that moment, my life froze and shattered into pieces, splintering like bits of broken glass, dropping down onto the ground around me, like the remnants of a cracked windshield, falling fast before the spinning mind and broken heart of a wide-eyed little girl. Life, as I knew it, was over in that moment. What happened on April 29, 1989, has scarred me forever. A day that started out normally, before it became ensnared in marred memories, tucked between folds of tragedy and darkness. The lingering memories cut straight to the core of the hollow girl left behind. The darkness delivers itself to me, every year, on schedule. Steadily. Greedily. On the 29th day of April. Relentless. Haunting. It taunts the pieces of me that remain. Every single year. I try to lift myself out of the darkness. I tell myself the numbers shouldn’t matter. Not after 27 years have passed. Jessi, It’s just another day. You can do anything you want with it. Don’t slip into the darkness. But not even the voice in my head believes those lies I tell myself. Year after year, my happiness recoils, my thoughts run to a dark place filled with foggy memories and a void that swallows me whole. The door of despair opens and I’m trapped: alone, numb to the bone, emotionally deplete, void of all reality, space, and time. I hate the helplessness as I slip further into that dark place. A place that, long ago, was filled with light. A place where three little girls would sing happy songs, pick flowers, hold hands while skipping through tall blades of grass, and sit down at the dining room table, where they would bow their heads to pray before plates filled with food, in a home filled with laughter. Then it hits me—the life-defining, self-inflicted images of horror—of their final moments—dragging me deep into the darkness.

    Mohi symbolises ""the hurting"" and Kabir is all about ""the healing"" that comes after it. A book written and illustrated by author,which is for everyone. for those who believe in love and compassion and for those who don't. Those who have healed and those who are still in process. Those who aren't able to move on and those who have successfully done it. It is for feminists, the activists, the believers, the gender norm shatterers.It is a gift, a book on its journey to make difference in it's reader's life.

    Don’t route your joy through heaven, he says. Access happiness for yourself—right here, right now. Starting with three basic dimensions of the self—Body, Mind and Energy—Sadhguru introduces us to simple techniques to realign and transform them into a life of sparkling aliveness. From the ideal approach to food and sleep to the profound secrets of the human spine, from the role of sex and desire to the deepest meaning of love and morality, from the significance of physical postures and psychological attitudes to the notion of authentic spiritual illumination—this book guides us on all this and more.Also read The Mind and The Energy from 'Three Truths of Well Being'.

    These memoirs take him from enjoying the odd cold beer sailing peacefully across the Indian Ocean to being trapped in a war zone. Here he sees life at sea changing from the leisurely days of general cargoes to the hectic computerised containerships. He seems to have done it all – rescuing drug runners from the ice, dredging aggregates in the North Sea and finally skippering a ‘steamer’ on a tranquil lake. This volume is the second of Bob’s memoirs covering his service as master on a wide variety of ships. The first book ‘I think I’ll go to sea’ relates to his experiences climbing up through the ranks. In this book he has to flee the USA to avoid arrest for drug smuggling, assists rescuing a ship’s crew when their ship sinks in pack ice and gets stuck in the middle of the Iraq/Iran war. He also experiences alcohol free ships which take away the pleasure of his ‘cold beer’

    Her five older siblings were taken into care many years ago. So no one can understand why she was left at home to suffer for so long. It seems Aimee was forgotten.The social services are looking for a very experienced foster carer to look after Aimee and, when she reads the referral, Cathy understands why. Despite her reservations, Cathy agrees to Aimee on – there is something about her that reminds Cathy of Jodie (the subject of ‘Damaged’ and the most disturbed child Cathy has cared for), and reading the report instantly tugs at her heart strings.When she arrives, Aimee is angry. And she has every right to be. She has spent the first eight years of her life living with her drug-dependent mother in a flat that the social worker described as ‘not fit for human habitation’. Aimee is so grateful as she snuggles into her bed at Cathy’s house on the first night that it brings Cathy to tears.Aimee’s aggressive mother is constantly causing trouble at contact, and makes sweeping allegations against Cathy and her family in front of her daughter as well. It is a trying time for Cathy, and it makes it difficult for Aimee to settle. But as Aimee begins to trust Cathy, she starts to open up. And the more Cathy learns about Aimee’s life before she came into care, the more horrified she becomes.It’s clear that Aimee should have been rescued much sooner and as her journey seems to be coming to a happy end, Cathy can’t help but reflect on all the other ‘forgotten children’ that are still suffering…

    She desired to become a well-known photographer since forever. One unfortunately fortunate day, her life took an unexpected turn and she moved to the city of dreams-Mumbai where she received instant acclaim from her peers but she still continued to feed her past. Then...when she least expected it, he came wafting in, the rising star. The man Mumbai loved!! She hated music. He was a musician. Together they created their own kind of music. Through trials and tribulations, Mausami finally managed to enter the best phase of her life holding his hand,but the worst was yet to come...

    Parents getting on your nerves… again?... Need some verbal ammunition?… Here's 49 (extremely silly) questions to annoy your parents.Join the hilarious adventure of these naughty kids who will ask absolutely anything to make their parents blood boil. With an illustration for each haphazard attempt you're guaranteed to laugh, smirk, and chuckle for hours.Disclaimer: reading this eBook will definitely get you into trouble! (So if your parents ask where you heard these questions you didn’t hear them for me).Recommended Age: 7+

    James Bond isn't a secret agent. The funny bone isn't a bone. E-readers like the Kindle were invented in 1949. Slavery has never been more common as it is today. Neanderthals were extremely smart and were able to speak. Vikings invented rap battles. Natural oranges aren't orange. Rats didn't cause the Black Death. Halitosis doesn't exist. Buddhists don't worship Buddha. Everyone mispronounces "Nutella." St. Patrick wasn't Irish. There has never been 50 states in the United States. Selfies aren't a recent fad. They have existed since 1839. Guardian angels aren't mentioned in the Bible. A comatose person can speak and walk around. Nicotine doesn't cause cancer.