Prologue:
Her eyes are accusing me. Taunting me. Mocking me.
But her eyes. They were swimming in tears.
And those tears made quite a scene. We collected quite a crowd.
I hear whispers. Derisive laughter.
In my peripheral vision I see raised eyebrows.
Some were bold enough for they openly pointed at my direction.
Some gaped and some murmured.
But most of them stared. Simply stared.
Their eyes. Accusing eyes. Just like hers.
And I know what those eyes convey even if they didn’t speak a single word.
For in her eyes I can see my reflection.
And just like what they say, the eyes are the window to a person’s soul.
A stare down gave me a peek to her shambolic emotions.
And right now, her eyes, along with their eyes, marked me as a BITCH.
