THE HATRED
"Mom?!" I called. I woke up to my mother’s arms wrapped tightly around me, her body trembling as if she could shield me from everything just by holding on. "Yes. Sweetheart. Everything is gonna be alright" she whispered. She was unharmed, yet dust covered her body and tangled her hair, stealing the strength from her presence. The cold of the cell crept into my bones. Then, suddenly, the iron door screeched open. its rusted hinges screaming through the silence of the room. Three men stepped inside first. They were tall and broad, their faces hardened by years of violence. Long, thick mustaches hung over their lips like shadows, barely moving as they breathed. Their eyes were empty, like lifeless people, as if whatever mercy they once had had been burned out long ago. They didn’t lo
- Writer
