It was around four o'clock in the morning when I woke up from an excruciating nightmare. I gasped as if I am losing my breath. In my nightmare, I saw my father's face showered with his own hot tears while on his bent knees, seeking and begging for help from the familiar faces of the Zendejas' family.
I was trying to catch my breath, with my hand patting my chest. I cleared my throat and took the glass of water on the side table. I sighed when I felt my heart slowly getting calmed after a few deep breath.
Fuck this life, Nathalie. Even when I was asleep, I still can't get the peace I longed for. I found myself hugging my knees and burying my head on it.
How can I fix everything when I am deeply wounded? I didn't manage to heal even after a long time. I must admit that I am having a ha
