𝘓𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘯.
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Amidst the 1993 allegations, King of Pop Michael Jackson grew weary upon the media's fabricatio...
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A touch can mean hundreds of things, thousands of emotions, or millions of reasons. A touch is never just a touch as it is driven by the inner subconscious of when and why people do such a thing.
Celine's motherly touch gave a sense of security to Celestine. Her warm embraces protected her from all the evil she had faced throughout her life, including the filthy hands of his own father. It was her touch that gave her the strength that she now trying to portray.
Eli's touch gave Celestine courage, to be strong for the both of them ever since their mother left untimely. It was his touch that gave her the determination and drive to have better things in life.
However, when Marco's hand rested on her skin, the same spot where he left a horrible mark on her shoulder, she was taken back to the moment when his father did the same thing. When she vividly saw her mother suffering because of his father's carelessness.
The way she saw her mother pleaded for his father to stop, with tears continuously streaming down her face, both her knees planted on the floor, her arm badly bruised and her cheek painted with hues of violet and blue made her heart ache.
His father reeks of alcohol and arrogance and slaps her mother with a force that is unimaginable. Without noticing, her tears are already falling and staining her innocent, doll-like face.
The picture was so vivid that his father's face warped with the man in front of him, making her stand in complete fear.
"All I want for you to understand is the value of a promise, C," his vile voice echoed in her ears. "A concept that your father cannot grasp on."
She shuddered in shock, holding onto the littlest of strength and courage left in her core. Her night was peaceful and serene until he and his army of minions came budging unannounced.
"What do you mean?" she mumbled in fear.
"Oh please, C. Don't act like you don't know what I mean," Marco threatened. "You know damn well what I'm talking about,"
"That wasn't even me. And it wasn't even my fault!" she retorted, her voice audibly trembling.
"Aw, look at you getting scared," he cooed disgustingly. "Looks like you're not as strong as I thought you were,"
"Get straight to the point, Marco," she dared with conviction.
"I want my money back. My father's money," he spoke viciously clear.
"I told you, I can pay, just give me more time!"
"That's your father's exact words," he wickedly laughed. "I've heard that same ol' excuse over and over and over again," Marco looked at her deadpan in the eyes.
"Why are you doing this?" she queried helplessly, her voice getting inaudible. Marco bent on her level, his vicious eyes met her fearful ones. Both of them were locked in the same horizon yet it was hazy, one because of malice and the other because of fright.
