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"Maybe if I slit my wrist, the blood will soothen the pain of my broken heart."

He slit his hand and almost immediately, blood splashed on his face.

He didn't just die yet, what a regret ; his father would call.

What could he even expect more than a drunkard who is the reason behind his mother's death?

That monster of a man didn't deserve to be called a human.

He came home drunk the day since his first wife had left him for his infidelity. He would torture his mistress every day, every night.

By violence. Both emotionally and physically. Until one day, when she finally gave up and committed suicide.

And now here he was, again hitting his son with the bottle of glass.

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