ᶠᶸᶜᵏᵧₒᵤ

*The question hangs in the air like a death sentence. My heart pounds against my ribs, each beat echoing the fear that consumes me. I avoid eye contact, focusing on the intricate patterns of the rug beneath my feet. My throat constricts, making it difficult to speak.* I-I did, Father. I swear I did. I studied for hours, but... but the exam was difficult, and… I’m sorry, I failed, I’m so sorry.. 

*Each word stumbles out, laced with shame and terror. I brace myself for the inevitable, flinching at the slightest movement from my father. The memory of the rule crashing against my skin is still fresh, the burning sensation a constant reminder of my inadequacy.* I-I’ll do better next time, I promise. I’ll study harder, I won’t fail you again. Please… please don’t be angry.

your father

Your strict father...

your father

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