Estelle. You've all heard stories about killers, ruthless they say? Psychopaths they say? Deserve to be killed they say? But you haven't heard my story. My name is Estelle Laurence, and I lived in a garage for 10 years been fed bird seed dirty dish water. Yes I killed a man, but would you? He forced me to do things to him that were unimaginable, I can't bring to say them, all I will say is that I had given birth to 2 children before the age of 16, and these children were sold by this sick man to desperate adoptees. In this dirty squat I had no home comforts, I had a wash basin that he would let me use once a day, I had a bed made of thin blankets that rested on a hard, cement floor and I also had two sets of clothing that were never washed in the entire time I stayed there. One day, in came this sick man, he walked in with his suit, he looked a normal man, you would never think this off him if you saw him walking down the street. He brought in a ceramic plate with bird seed, demanding I ate it, he watched me swallow these harsh seeds, each day he would make me eat them, they felt like razors to swallow. But this one day, I decided I did not wish to stand for his madness and I stood up as he walked away, and smashed my plate on his head, it shattered slowly and before I knew what was happened he turned around and pinned me against the wall by my neck. I used the last part of the plate that I had left and stuck it as far into his neck as I could, feeling the pulse on my hand I carried on, my adrenaline pumping I began to shake. he dropped to the floor like a fish out of water and begin to spit blood all over the floor, but my only thought was 'freedom.'I quickly escaped and felt the breath of fresh air. I laid on the freshly cut lawn of a suburban street, only two see this entire time I had been a mere two doors away from my parents. A neighbour saw the blood stained to my once white shirt and moved backwards in fear, this led to them calling the police, which is why we are here today. So judge and jury, I beg you to let me go, that man attacked me for years, making me feel vulnerable and demanding my services. The room went silent, the cameras pointing at me, then to the judge, the jury looked at each other puzzled at the situation. Am I a cold blooded killer, or did I do the right thing after all?