Adamantem’s POV
I
I heard those begging words from a very familiar voice. She kept on begging as my tears flowed again like rivulets.
“Ms. Marta,” I murmured the name of the owner of the voice, begging for her dear life. I closed my eyes and prayed to spare Ms. Marta’s life. She is the only one who loves me and cares for me. As my eyes were closed, I covered my ears with my hands, not wanting to hear more of her cries and pleading. My mind flew from the past, remembering how Ms. Marta lifted my spirit, saved me, and picked me up whenever I was down and about to give up. And, once again, my mind has been haunted by the past.
I was six years old and Ms. Marta caught me that time, visiting my mother in this dark underground room.
“Adamantem, what are you doing here? Come, your father sho
