Dear Sir,

Almost two years ago, my daughter was brutally murdered by her boyfriend — and that is when the battle began. The emotions are difficult to put into words, and the battle for my peace of mind is real.

Yes, I still laugh, I still enjoy, there are good times and there are times that feel almost normal. But there are times that simply aren’t that.

Counselling has long been exhausted, but still the emotions and thoughts that remain scare even me. You want to think that the thoughts in your mind are simply that ... thoughts. You want to believe that you will never act on these thoughts. At this stage, with her murderer in jail, it makes it easier. He is in there and I am out here. But it doesn’t stop the thoughts.

People ask how I am doing, how I am making out. I always pause before I answer. I often choose to cut the conversation short by simply telling them what I think they want to hear. I tell them that things are getting better, and we are working through it day by day. Simply, it is better this way so that it is not necessary to go into the depths of the darker areas and emotions.

As a father, I feel an overwhelming responsibility to make it right. Many in society would define “make it right” as her murderer being incarcerated. Society thinks that he will serve his time, and once that is done, all is right in the world again — he will have served his debt to society.

Well, I am here to tell you that this couldn’t be farther from my truth. As I said in my victim’s impact statement at his sentencing, “I will be fine for him to walk the streets of Bermuda as a free man when my daughter can do the same!”

If I were to write the details of what I see as my definition of paying his debt to society, my definition of true justice, this emotional rant would not be printed nor read.

I have no desire to go to jail. I have a wife, another daughter, a family and friends, and this, you would think, would be enough to keep me on the straight and narrow. But, to be honest, the thoughts in my head make me worried at times that they could win this battle.

This battle is not about right or wrong, good or bad; it is so much deeper than that and impossible to clearly explain with words. Words are strong, but emotions are so much more powerful.

I, as her father, feel that it is my duty to her, our family and friends, to see that he pays for what he did. I battle with feeling of guilt for simply sitting back and letting this system say what will be done. The voices tell me that to sacrifice my own freedom would be the right thing to do to get justice for my daughter. Westgate is society’s form of punishment; that is the tool that the justice system uses. What else does it have?

When her murderer was sentenced after finally pleading guilty having maintained his innocence for 15 months, from my perspective the sentence was not enough. No way, no how!

Life in prison was the sentence, without the possibility of parole until he has served at least 23 years. My daughter’s life was taken away for ever! Will that change in 23, 25 or even 35 years? My daughter is gone for ever!

The word “life” has two different meanings when you compare the meaning for my daughter with her murderer’s sentence. But what can you do, the justice system has spoken. You can’t disagree or stamp your feet in disapproval. So shall it be written, so shall it be done.

We struggle every day to put the pieces back together, and just when you think that you see some glimmer of light, all the wheels fall off and the process starts again.

Her murderer has not spent even two years behind bars and he has now got the audacity to appeal his sentence. He believes he should serve less time. I cannot explain how that makes me feel. The hate, anger and rage that it all stirs up again is real. The memory of hearing what he did to her is brought back to the front of my memory, like it was yesterday. It stings, hurts and crushes my heart to rethink what he did to my daughter — and in these moments, I know that anything is possible.

I want to ask him how many years in jail does he think my daughter’s life is worth? Most of my life, I could not understand how any man could hate another man so strongly that he could take another person’s life. I am here to tell you that I wouldn’t wish my pain on another man, but I will contradict myself and admit that sometimes life has a way of teaching you things the hard way that will make you understand things that you wouldn’t have in the past.

I am hopeful that his appeal is handled like the joke that it is and he is sent back to his cell to continue his life where he belongs.

I am hopeful that time will continue to heal the hearts of everyone that knew and loved my daughter. For me, I hope for the strength to overcome the emotions that would see me destroy my life in search of retribution and justice.

May the memories of Morissa Andrea Moniz live on for ever in the hearts and minds of those who loved and shared in her life.

MORRIS MONIZ

Southampton

Editor’s note: this letter was received on November 7 but withheld until after the Court of Appeal delivered its ruling on Anthony Davis

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