I felt like an empty vacuum, caskeeted and veneered in an emphatic misery— my life and every other feeling inside of me— was beaming in death while I was still breathing. My handcuffed hands, weakened and exhausted, rested on the table in front of the Inspector of police, who was asking me to think twice about the statement I was going to make. My lawyer, Esq Belmore had asked that he wanted to have some few conversations with me before I made the statement that I killed Haja. He told the police that I wasn’t in the best state of mind to make a statement. I was swinging my head from end to end, tightening my grip, feeling overweight. In stillness , I murmured with the words, “I killed her. I did push her. She bled and died.”
“She was my world, and everything about me evolves around her. Why is fate so unfair and distrustful?”
I hit my head on the table, scraping my bared head with my slender fingers. I was grieving as much as I was dying.
“Calm down. This is your life...