I gaze at the ceiling, my heart beating like a drum. My internal parts tumble, and my inner part between my legs is sore. I gradually looked down at the man gently resting on my stomach. His arms are resting over my right breast, measuring it like a bra. I breathed out an overwhelming sigh at that point played with his hair, dumbfounded. 

His words are playing inside my head, like rehashed verses I have listened to from a song. Although, it’s clear what he is relating, still, I can’t acknowledge it. I have my reasons. A casualty and executioner don’t go along. Even though he set me free and...