(Nafas)
I wash the dishes one by one, my mind stuck on Grandpa’s words. Sometimes I imagine that I’ve run away…
From Grandpa. From Rasha. From their plans. From everything…
I live for myself somewhere people value me—for my talent, for my knowledge…
“You’re worthless. You’re nothing but trouble…”
His voice echoes inside my head. What did I do wrong? Other than being born, what did I ever do…?
I turn off the faucet and sit down on the kitchen floor. I run both hands through my hair and pull it back.
Why does everyone hate me?
My mother…
Grandpa’s hatred toward me comes from my mother…
My father…
Rasha’s hatred toward me comes from my father…
So I… I… Did I do something wrong?
Why am I the one to blame?
What did my parents even do that made these two hate them?
“Nafas…”
Rasha
