It is said that truth hurts but no blood is shed.

But to me, every word was a knife to my heart and every reflectionwas a dagger to my soul.

Was I masochist? Or did I witness his sadism day-in day-out?

All I knew was I was reliving the revived pain.

She couldn’t help it but these thoughts were swirling in her head.

She didn’t know whether she was just torturing herself or whether there was a truth hidden behind it all.

Lord have mercy….

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