Him.
I was miserable. That was the only word to describe myself at that moment, as I was haunted by Emma’s words and the hate behind them.
My Emma. My darling.
Emma. Emma. Emma.
I am sorry. Please come back to me.
On and on, I begged this. And on and on, there was no reply.
Her words kept ringing in my ear; monster, murderer.
They were all true, I just didn’t think she would see me as such. Emma is always constant in her support and treatment towards me, smiling and curious but never hurtful or mean. She would question things and learn what happened before acting or pointing out her side. The Emma that spoke to me over the archway was not mine but there she was saying those things anyway.
I do not scorn her for this. I am everything she said and more… a lot more. Why else would
