Walking Down The Aisel

Walking Down The Aisel

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WpMetadataReadConcluída seg, ago 24, 202011m
"How did this happen?" I asked while pressing a cloth soaked in alcohol to the stab wound on his left side. He hissed "It's a long story." "You conned me into believing you were dead for 11 months. I have time." I pressed harder in agitation which made him grunt. "So what do you want me to say? Surprise! I'm back from the dead. How exciting!" When I gave him a pointed look he averted his eyes. He is impossible sometimes.
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"I'll take the beating, but don't touch her," my father begged, broken and desperate. His plea fell on deaf ears as the command was given. The lashes came swiftly, and while my family screamed in horror, my uncles and father tried to mask their pain. But if you looked closely, you could see the agony etched in their faces. Each blow left me numb, but my mind screamed for revenge. I wanted retribution-for Liam, my grandmother, my father, my cousins, my aunts, and even those who once hated me cried out for it. But when I looked at my father, it was too late. He was unconscious, held tightly by those who had restrained him. I struggled through the pain, rushing to his side, bloodied and broken. "Help him, please!" I screamed, tears streaming down my cheeks. My uncles rushed to help, but Liam and his men left without a second glance, driving off, and leaving us to deal with the aftermath.

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