His Empire, My Vengeful Return

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had stopped spinning, replaced by a deafening silence that echoed in my brain. My mind, moments ago a maelst

he chilly floor. My limbs felt alien, heavy, unresponsive. The memory of my ordeal clung to my

it threatened to tear me apart from the inside out. My hands, trembling violently, reached out, but there was nothing to hold. I gathered my arms to

or months. I had pictured his eyelids, soft and closed in peaceful sleep

o unleash the torrent of agony churning within me, but only a dry, raspi

someone, anyone, who could reverse the irreversible. But my legs, heavy and unresponsiv

attempt to soothe the unsoothable. My mind was a whirlwind of shattere

every book on parenting, meticulously prepared his nursery, each tiny garment folded with trembling anticipation. My hands,

o ride a bicycle, graduating from college, falling in love. A lifetime of moments, vibrant and real in my imagination, now reduced to d

ng me. He was so small, so innocent, untouched by the

s through the grime on my face, blurring my vision. They fell

t was a song I had sung to him every night, a promise of protection,

unease, perhaps even fear, in their eyes. My grief, vast and

hell, a sea of despair. The world outside, its cruelty and indifferenc

s, raw and swollen, struggling to focus. Standing over