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Celeste seemed to have never heard such words in her life before. Or maybe, not in such a meaning. Experienced people, parents, telling her what she did wrong, and that she still had a way to improve, somewhere to go after all of this.
She looked into her own hands filled with scars, as tears began flowing out of her eyes rapidly, she began to sniffly as she nodded.
"I understand…" She cried. "I'm sorry… I-I'll do everything I can…"
"You don't have to cry over it." Sighed my mother. "Ugh, now you make me feel bad, it feels like I made a child cry."
"Well we kind of did…" My father said.
"You are not making things any better honey." My mother looked back at my father.
