We humans have to have trust. Trust that when you go to the shop the friendly old man wouldn’t point a gun at you. Or there wouldn’t be poison in the take-awat burger you bought last night. We have to trust to live. But what if you don’t even trust yourself.
“Don’t trust the police, okay.” Is the words coming out of Stephen’s mouth. The audacity. I want to scream at him and freak out but at the same time want to curl up next to him and tell him how scared I am. No! I have to be strong.
“Can’t trust anyone, right.” I say and keep my eyes hard as steel. It didn’t feel nice to sleep next to him last night. I didn’t even sleep, scared that he would do something bad to me. That he would destroy the trust that I developed for him in the times of passionate kissing and buying me food
