Every day was torture. Beginning from the time, he had glared at my stupid presence, to when he just brushed off my shoulder and storm off. I felt bad for everything I hadn't done and became unavailable at times, even during lunchtimes and dinner tables. To be frank, I was mentally feeling bad.
For having done so many things without even realizing it.
For being the reason for a fatal disaster.
For being the victim of social media bullying.
For having run away from those who loved, to a desert I couldn't recognize.
Why I don't know.
'Get out"
I wasn't in the mood for any of this cuddling. It was past eight, and the last thing I wanted the frightened and anxious patient, the producer to come and see Yolo in my room. My arms pushed him away, making him laugh much to my annoyance.
I
