十二

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but I was lucky.






I did not end up in jail as I was only 14 that year. I was underage.




I guess she was mad about it because that meant she was still in charge of my living.




I had no idea if this news was more depressing for her,




or for me.





soon, the silent house was filled with her voices.




She's back,




the real abuser,




my mother.






"Oh god, I've heard how the neighbours talked about you behind your back."


"Does it hurt?"


"Do you feel the pain, of killing your dad? "




I stared at her blankly as I let out a soft chuckle and thought,



pain?



you must be kidding me.



do I deserve to feel 'pain'?



what's the point of feeling painwhen I can't even feel loved?



she looked at me with ' hatred ' written all over her face.



"Did you just chuckle and smirked?"



I ignored her and continued to chuckle by myself.



she wouldn't know what I'm chuckling about.





I was thinking, why did such a person like her even decide to give birth to a child and only to hurt them?



I chuckle the more I think about it.



what a joke.





she started walking towards me while holding on to something.



I couldn't take a good look at what that was because I couldn't be bothered either way.



on a normal occasion, I would have dodged reflectively at whatever she was throwing towards me.




but I guess this time,





I'm just really tired.

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