“My parting gift to you is the fact that I am free.”
Parting gift?
Free?
I don’t want a fucking gift.
I don’t want her to be free.
She’s mine.
Nothing will ever change that.
I need to wake up.
Wake up.
Open my fucking eyes.
Why won’t they open?
Why is the mist getting darker?
Fuck.
“I’m going to tell them to shut the machine off that keeps you alive.”
I’m dying?
What the hell is going on?
The fog swirls faster, growing darker by the second.
A machine is keeping me alive?
Why?
What happened?
It slams into me like a freight truck.
Prison.
The fight.
My head smashing against the concrete floor, over and over again.
The pain radiating throughout my body.
“If you breathe on your own, then I’ll fight you in court, and I’ll make sure that you pay for what you did to me.”
Court.
Fight.
I don’t want another fight.
I can’t go through that again.
