Hai stormed to the bathroom, throwing up the anxiety puddle accumulated in his stomach. As he threw up, he felt his breaths slowing down, evoking panic in him. He swung his face from side to side, unable to come to terms with his current situation.
Yes, he asked for a problem to leave his way and make his life easier.
Yes, he wanted to succeed in his exam tomorrow.
Yes, he wanted to sleep.
But he didn't want this. He didn't want his foster mom, his parent, and his guardian to pass away!
On the bathroom floor, he fell and looked at his dead foster mom through the slightly opened door. She lay there lifelessly, ready to be packed into a coffin and buried for good.
Hai couldn't cry. He was too occupied thinking about what to do. He found it hard to breathe but forced himself to breathe. He stood from the bathroom floor and dragged his feet back to the bedside, staring at his dead foster mother. He fell on his knees.
