Tara.

I thought my hate had put my feelings for Zeath in the grave.

It should have.

No one would receive such an amount of wickedness and not feel nothing but pure disgust for the instigator. Yet why is my case different? And it’s not like I’m a saint. Zeath himself said it after all.

I need the essay to trigger my anger. I need my sanity back, as I’m slowly falling—again—for a prank, maybe.

I keep telling myself I won’t, but each time my walls keep going down way lower ...