Clothes scattered. The remnants of crying dry on my cheeks, a heartbeat running without direction. Tonight, I become the ending of a story I once only heard from other people’s mouths. One body lies before me. My scream has stopped, yet my fingers still tremble. I stand with red stains on my face, and for the first time, I don’t know what relief means. He was a family, so how could he be so cruel to me? The knife falls. The body survives, my soul does not. Trauma remains. #bun