Syria’s POV
“Shit.”
My heart was pounding so fast it was like trying to escape my chest.
The fire had just finished destroying the painting and now what was left are ashes.
The lingering smell of burnt paper filled the whole studio and its bitter scent was sticking to my nose. It almost made me gag.
I can’t believe what I had done.
I looked around and everything around me looked like a mess, just pure chaos. I couldn’t stand it. I felt sick just looking at the room.
There was a moment of silence when I started to clean up. I wanted to pretend like none of it had happened, like I could erase the memory inside my head by cleaning this shits.
But I was denial.
So much for going back to my old hobby.
Just as I was sweeping the dirt, suddenly I felt the broom in my hands wiggling a
