I’m the monster, a bloody human incapable of emotion I soon realise that my revenge didn’t make me feel any fucking better about myself, instead it pissed me off to realise that I’m in love with her. Two days later the letter addressed to me arrives in the post and the ground moves beneath my feet, because the whole truth about India is out in the open and the pain punches me so hard that I can’t breathe, darkness crawls through me, sparking all the insecurities and fears about my dead brother back to ugly reality. Then off I go with my apology, trying to fix this fucked up situation but she doesn’t want to listen. Every time I do something the guilt is burning my gut, pushing her further and further away from me. She even goes an extra mile making me feel like a prick and she gets involved with someone else just to get back at me. She pretends that the event in the restaurant didn’t mean anything to her, like she is immune to my actions. India’s pain is raw, deep and whenever I lay my eyes on her I remember the cruel things I’ve done. The next couple of months I focus on getting her back. This is the only thing that matters to me now. I must redeem myself; forget about anger, other birds and parties. India is the only person that I want, I love her and only her but the problem is that she hates my guts, so I’m the last person that she wants. I must prove to India that I’m worthy of her love.