The moment my body embraced the wet floor, I witnessed shreds of empathy in those eyes. The very eyes that taunted me a while ago seemed to pity my worn out body. It could have been my imagination. But that certainly was the case. The tips of his warm finger traced the symmetry of my face. His touch was gentle. Why was that? Perhaps, it couldn’t be explained with a simple glance at him. The man seemed to be distraught for what he himself had done to me.
As he removed his hand from my face, a profound multilayered sense of fear seemed to have enwrap its arm around me. I was afraid of being left alone in that darkness, so afraid that I wanted to hold onto my enemy’s hand to feel secure. I wanted to grasp his hand and plead for him to stay, but my stubborn body just wouldn’t move. As he lef
