In a dimly lit room, soft, stifled sobs echoed faintly. A large glass window, veiled by white silk drapes, allowed the moonlight to cast a pale shimmer across the space. Near it stood a single bed, neatly made with a plain white sheet. Pillows were stacked one atop another—but now one was clutched tightly in trembling arms.
Rina, her short golden hair disheveled and sticking to her tear-streaked face, was curled up, hugging the pillow as though it could hold her shattered heart together.
She had been crying for a while, unable to fall sleep.
Why did I do that?
Why do I always cave under pressure?
Why do I always act weak?
Her mind tormented her, with repeated thoughts again and again.
His cold eyes... the hate in them—it wounds my heart.
I'm not strong enough to bear it.
She buried her face deeper into the pillow, her tears soaking into the fabric.
What should I do?
How can I make it right?
Will I lose him… forever?
I am pathetic… truly pathetic.
