“It hurts, from these months of engagement, lovely talks, fake dreams. All of it hurts.”

It’s been a week. My foot is now healed. It hurts a little but it’s okay. I wonder what he told my parents that they didn’t come to see me again. They called everyday but didn’t come to see each other again.

Or else I know my Father, one scratch and he stays until it’s healed and now… mere calls?

Staring at the ceiling with unwanted thoughts, I could feel my chest stinging.

I know if he could shoot my foot without a second. He wouldn't hesitate to end my breaths either. If I ever...