Everyone of us carry stories, events that have led us to this moment, events that make us, that shape our belief and the things we carry inside.

So…what’s your story?

——

“I’m so sorry, sir.” I gasped, gripping his hands, the heaviness of his words hanging between us.

“It’s alright.” He gave a weak chuckle, but it was the kind that cracked at the seams. His eyes told another story, one drenched in the kind of pain that time doesn’t forgive. “I cried so much that day. It felt like a part of me just... stopped existing. I begged, screamed, bargained with whoever might be listening to take me instead....