Once upon a time, when I thought people still had a heart and soul, I was forced to believe it was a fairytale I created.

Never in my life did I think I would be accused of the murder of the one person who is the reason I'm able to breathe.

Just one accident, and I'm back to the time when I wished I had died. The one man who thought I was worthless to even put his eyes on, is the same man who now wants to erase my existence from the world. He hates me to the point that the world could dry out, and his hate would still increase with each moment between us.

The man is worse than the devil himself, who would love to watch me crumble at his feet, begging for mercy.

However, he's forgetting that I'm already broken, and nothing can hurt you worse than the broken pieces that go painfully deep into your skin. Hate can do nothing if it's one-sided; ironically, this isn't one-sided. He thinks he can burn me. Fool, even fire cannot burn shadows.

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