When I was seven years old, I had an 'hallucination' of my father being hit by a black car. I tried to warn him not to leave the house that morning, but he raised his hand to hit me on the cheek, yelled at me that I shouldn't say such things and he left for work, not believing me. A few hours later, we received a call from the police informing us that Frederick Claude had been run over before arriving at his office. He was dead. But of course, I already knew that. My mother didn't cry when she got the news, she just bent down to be at my level and grabbed my thin arms, burying her fingers, which I remember as claws."This was your fault," she said to me, in a low but clear voice. Her claws digging harder and harder into my arms, making me bleed and cry, "You put that idea into his head with your words, you made him hesitate and get run over. I hope you never forget that."After the funeral, she left me at her sister-in-law's house with two suitcases and a last cold stare, not a wo

Samantha opens the door and enters the office first."Mister Claude has arrived," she announces like we're in a palace, then she gestures for me to come in as well. There are two men in the office waiting for me, both wearing full suits just like me. Thank goodness, I'm well dressed, "I'll be right outside if you need me.""Stay with us, Sammy," Charlie stops her with a casual tone and stands up to walk toward me. Imposing and just as tall as me, Charlie Lambert is a healthy man and he looks much, much younger than fifty two. He comes over to greet me with a hug, as if I'm as important as he is, even though just a couple of days ago I was a literal nobody, "It's a pleasure to meet the man behind the best idea I've heard in years.""Oh, that's very kind, Sir. Thank you for this opportunity," I reply and pat his back gently as he hugs me again. "This is my son, Cain," he says once he releases me and a near perfect copy of Charlie Lambert approaches us, greeting me just as effusively as

{ Pinky }I hate waiting while I'm alone in a public place and even more so if I'm waiting for Cain because no matter how many times we see each other in public, he's always late. And I'm always too early, but that's something I can't help. I also can't help noticing everyone's eyes on me, especially the eyes of that rude man who sat across from me just to judge me. As soon as he sat down, he gave me a one-second look and his face contorted as if he had never seen anything so disgusting in his life. Very obvious and evident. His fists on the table clenched as if he wanted to smash them into my face and he tried to look away so as to not be obvious, but he didn't succeed. Now my guard is on high alert and I'm ready for anything he might try to do to me.I know I attract attention wherever I go, I'm not stupid. My hair makes me stand out from others and I usually like that, but not when I'm alone in a bar full of men who might commit a hate crime against me just because of the color