My eyes stung.

But I had promised myself yesterday never to cry for Ethan again, so I held it back.

My breathing was heavy as I tried to control myself.

I held the paper by the edge.

The small cut already tearing its way through ready to divide the paper into two, but I stopped myself.

Unlocking my desk drawer, I pushed it inside, and then locked it after.

This hurt more than I expected it to.

It hurt worse because I could still remember this very day clearly at the back of my eyes.

That was the very first day Ethan had hurt me.

The next day, I walked...