Jrmorant

The Day I K*lled My Mother

The Day I K*lled My Mother From the inky depths of the night, a chill slithered into my veins, weaving a tapestry of dread around my heart. Each raindrop, a mournful echo on the windowpane, seemed to whisper a lament for a soul lost to the shadows. Ever since that tempestuous eve, when my father vanished like a wisp of smoke, the night has cloaked itself in an aura of chilling absence and menacing silence.