I sat uncomfortably in the wooden chair furthest away from the oak door of the melancholy living room. I sat upright but my face was facing the ground. There was a knocking on the door. I had been dreading this moment for the past few days. My heart started beating out of time. Am I ready to face her?
The door opens and a greasy-haired woman wearing a moss-green jumper and tracksuit bottoms that were way too small for her, enters. She placed herself in the purple sofa that sat in the centre of the room, opposite me. I braced myself for what she was about to say. Her mouth opened and the smell of her onion breath clogged up the room. I had to refrain myself from coughing, for it would not be appropriate. Her mouth opens to say;
"I know what you did to my daughter".
