It was 11 pm already, and Harold still hadn't come home. I've called him several times, but this man only picked up once to reassure me that he was alright and would be back in ten minutes. How many hours had it been since that 'ten minutes?'

At this point, I was even questioning myself why I was seated in the sitting room, waiting for him. The action movie I'd been watching to kill time had become so boring to me. Anger and frustration had clouded my eyes so much that the interesting movie had ...