Samlin Greenham
I intertwine my hands together and inhale sharply, then glance at my parents. My mother is holding a tea cup in her hand, briefly sipping at times. My father is sitting motionlessly at the sofa, his eyes focusing at the white wall. In a few past days, he has lost weight, dark circles appeared around his eyes and he has been quiet.
"Okay. Um," I clear my throat. "Dad and Mom, I wanted to talk with both of you, 'cause I think__ you have answers, er, to some questions. You have been calm since the day you_ got out from the prison. I think you need to talk with us, Dad. You know, share things of whatever is going on," I look at my mother, she nods at approval.
"I didn't get out, Sam. I broke out," he says, glancing at me. "I'm not of afraid of any police. Because it's just a matter of time before Malum and Reggae target me again."
