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Like A Corpse.
MALAYINA
May 16th 2018
Like a misbehaved child being sent to the naughty corner, I've been assigned to a large expansive room next to Amars' with joining doors that allow him easy access to my room.
'Mikros, you're my wife. Whether you like it or not, you are legally bound to me.' Amar has been kind enough to remind me at least a dozen times since I arrived yesterday.
He glared at me the entire time the doctor stitched him up, snarling every time the needle pierced his skin, and when the doctor asked if he wanted the area numbed, he simply replied. "Ochì, I want my WIFE," he made sure to emphasise the word 'wife'. "to see the pain she had caused her HUSBAND." And, once again, made sure to emphasise the word 'husband.'
The wheels in my head will not stop turning; my entire life has been a lie, and my mother! When I'm thrust back into the past and little snippets from my memory vault begin to piece the puzzle together, tears flow
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