Skender walked back home, the air feeling thick. His throat dry, his eyes burning, and his stomach hurting. He stopped at a corner feeling his stomach turn and then bowing down he threw up. Finally, his nausea triumphed. He couldn't hold in days of anxiety and fear. Every time he was close to giving up his heart, his past would come back haunting him. The fear of trusting again, when the ones he trusted the most had lied to him in the name of protection and love.
Love? Was that the way to treat the one you loved? Then he didn't want it.
He walked back home, his mind going down the lane of memories. He was only a boy when it all started, the isolation.
"Skender! Where have you been?" His mother asked, looking angry when he came home after playing with a few children in the neighborhood. "What did I say about going outside?"
"Mother. I only wanted to play."
