But seeing how calmly they could excuse the trigger and ignoring all my suffering, I was speechless.
I smiled, tears falling. "I'm not angry. It's my worthless fate. I shouldn't have come back. I should have died there, never disturbing your family's happiness again."
John, his eyes red, slapped me. "What nonsense are you spouting? Your mom and dad suffered so much searching for you, how can you say such heartless things? If it weren't for Maria all these years, they would have been depressed long ago!"
I touched my burning cheek. Looking at my parents, who remained unmoved even after I was hit, busy pulling Maria down from the balcony.
I scoffed. "Thank you for the slap, it woke me from my sweet dream."
I moved my wheelchair outside. Gradually, faint sobs came from the ward. I knew they weren't crying for me. It's okay, I didn’t need anyone to cry for me anymore.
I came back home. I took out the old bag I'd brought with me when I was brought back. Looking around, I realized I could take very little with me.