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He would wait, each and every night he would sit outside of my house, watching. A hopeful look painted across his face when my mother often opened a window, or shut a door. Occasionally she would tell him I was done with his rubbish, with the lies he had told and the pain he had caused. But he wouldn't leave, never. Some nights I would hear him breakdown, screaming, asking for help, for someone to save him, but it was all just a bribe, to force the guilt bubbling up inside of my to finally explode. But I had moved on from his games. And created my own.
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The fine line between love and hate- A Brad Simpson Fanfiction
Lãng mạnHe would wait, each and every night he would sit outside of my house, watching. A hopeful look painted across his face when my mother often opened a window, or shut a door. Occasionally she would tell him I was done with his rubbish, with the lies h...
