Children begin by loving their parents; after a time they judge them; rarely, if ever, do they forgive them.
~Oscar Wilde~
Luc
The man on the ground groaned.
Moaned in pain. The shrieking whimper of pain disappeared deep into his throat that he wasn't able to let it out, tears he couldn't control slid at the corner of his eyes.
I felt his agony, he wasn't old, perhaps in his early twenties, plenty much like me, but seeing how alone he had accosted the girls meant he was a sacrificial lamb. Whoever that sent him knew he might not survive, or succeed in k********g any of us, or maybe they thought the girls were fair game. Whichever it was, I pitied him. It was unfortunate, perhaps unfair, but such is life he had chosen or thrashed into.
“Alessa, Serena, are you okay?” I hear the soun
Aksara