Despair was very present. Mom just lay there – helpless. “Should we call in our resident priest sir?” said the nurse with what looked like pity in her eyes. “Who does this nurse think she is? Why does she allow pity creep through her soul, when she is just a mere witness to life’s unfair…
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Nonchalant became sorrow personified. My father’s eyes bore its presence. Screams churned into instructions. “Get out of this house! And take those little brats with you.” My mother bellowed. “I never want to see your faces again! Demons!” My sister couldn’t contain herself any longer. She broke out of my grip…
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