Don't ever do this

Rina Zante

The last piece of patience shredded off when I saw the time on my phone. I slapped the gadget on the bench—gasping when I realized myself.

Fortunately, however, damage hadn’t been done. The screen was good as new.

A frown squeezed my brows as another bout of realization struck. Why bother if the phone cracked or not? Why blow a sigh? Didn’t it all end today? In a few minutes?

I had an inward chuckle at my silliness, and looked straight ahead. All at once, nervousness descended on me, freezing up my hands and tickling my stomach. The darkening weather didn't help matters either.

As my nerves grew in size, I fixed my gaze at a specific area in front.

I'd told myself that there was no going back. There was no sense in going back.

I shut my eyes and opened them to get an itch. That was all there was to prove the hours spent crying. I'd told Papà I was truly and extremely sorry for the pain Mammà would feel; then I'd gone on to feel useless; and stared at the moon goddess sta