Richard
The brutal breeze beats my face.
Ruby's hair dances in the wind as she clings tight to the cup between her hands, trying to squeeze some warmth. I proposed going inside but she refused adamantly. She'd rather freeze in the cold. She's so stubborn.
We have been sitting on the front porch, sank back on the wooden chairs and sipping the warm tea that I made a few minutes ago. It's only been ten minutes on the porch but it feels like more. My heart is heavy from the shocking revelation. My soul scarred from the pain she lives with daily.
My father was a horrible man. But he's nothing compared to the devil that raised Ruby and called himself her father. Some people don't even deserve that title. They should just be called sperm-donor. End of story.
It's true what they say. You neve
