At 16, you were pregnant with your son. The father was Robert. The two of you climbed your way up to success, but as you worked your way up, you slowly forgot where you came from.

You were already 38, Robert was 40, William was 18. You had a daughter, Amelia, who was 15. You were very protective of your family, you may have been petite, but your actions spoke louder than words.

The family was very rich, you disliked peasants, you looked down on them. You thought they shouldn’t exist in the first place. Obviously, Robert didn't agree with that. He was always gentle and kind.

William had just gotten a girlfriend, Yvonne. She came from a poor family and you immediately disliked her.

You insulted her, tried to get them to break up, but Yvonne was strong willed. She stood her ground, every humiliation, every gossip behind her back, she didn’t break her bond with William.

When the time came, she got you back. She exposed your true self, humiliated you in front of everyone like you did with her.

She ruined every relationship you had with your family, your son, your daughter, your husband.

You kept yourself in your parents’ house. Your parents were already gone, but their house provided you comfort even at such an age.

Everyday, all you saw was darkness, anger, fury, jealousy. You weren’t taking the pills therapists prescribed for you anymore, you were wallowing in your misery and you deserved it.

One day, Robert comes to visit. He had noticed you hadn’t taken your pills with you and got worried. As much as he disliked you right now, he didn’t want you to hurt yourself.

Robert walked in, seeing you sat on the couch. He sits behind you and takes a pill out of the medicine bottle.

“Just one? Okay?” He asks, looking a little desperate.