But lack of pain didn’t mean lack of hatred.
I lifted my head, blood trailing from the corner of my mouth, dripping onto the tablecloth, a violent splash of red against white.
Their faces blurred in my damaged vision, mouths moving, though I couldn’t hear a single word.
Anger, shock, fake sympathy…
All of it looked like a performance.
Something inside my chest detonated.
Years of suppression, despair, loneliness, injustice—
All of it finally found an outlet.
I grabbed the edge of the table with all my strength and flipped it hard—
Crash—!
Dishes, soup, cups—all shattered across the floor, spraying fragments and noise like an explosion.
They staggered back in fear.
Someone screamed.
Someone scolded.
Someone pretended to be heartbroken.
I saw their mouths move, but heard nothi
