NYLAH
I dreaded sleep. Because the only dream I had was about that night, I almost died in the hands of my ex.
I withdrew from people. I didn't want to be around anyone. Not even Sofia. What was I going to tell her? Even though I knew she was going to sympathize with me, I didn't want any sympathy.
It only reminded me of back then when I would be bitten by Matteo in the club, and passersby would stoop to offer me their handkerchief to clean my tears or a piece of cloth to cover myself.
I preferred to be locked in my room, reflecting on my life and how I got to this same place I told myself I wasn't going to be.
It was the third day. I woke up feeling the same. Nothing special. My stomach rumbled, but the sight of food made me want to throw up.
The memory of Matteo forcing me to eat stale bread and sour soup was all I could think of food, and it repulsed me.
