What if…?

For this post I had to stir a lot in my memories and because I am rather someone who tends to much to speak, it was hard to find a moment in time when I wish I said something. Most of the times I did. I’ll give it a try:

I must go into that dark room and take him out of there.

They were talking in the upstairs room with the door half open. His father was trying aggressively to convince him to testify against his own mother in their trial. Andrew  was silent most of the time, but when he spoke I could clearly hear  his pain and shame bursting out with his few words. I tried not to listen while I waited, it was so not wright, so unfair , I just wanted to leave. But first, I should go there and say everything he could not. After, we could leave and never come back.

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