✽ Jason ✽
Mandy looked around my apartment, and I tried to see it from her point of view. I didn’t have a TV. I had a couch and a small table that I used for just about everything. My laptop was closed on the table, and the only lamp was on, which cast a soft glow. There was nothing personal. No trinkets. No photos. No books.
“It’s not much,” I couldn’t stop myself from saying. Mandy glanced at me and nodded. I moved the table so that she could get to the couch with ease. Mandy sat down and stared at me.
“I hate that this happened,” she whispered. I knew I should have felt guilty. After all, this was all my doing. But I couldn’t bring myself to feel any remorse. It wasn’t that I didn’t care. I just didn’t process emotions the way most people did. I was angry, and I acted out. I didn’t
