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My dad smashed my jaw for “Talking back.” Mom laughed “That’s what you get for being useless.” Dad said “Maybe now you’ll learn to keep that gutter mouth shut.” I smiled. They had no idea what was coming. – Part 2
In the kitchen, coffee brewed. Not as a ritual of control. As hospitality.
In the Ash Room, someone wrote GUTTER MOUTH in big letters and then, beneath it, added: TRUTH TELLER.
I watched the chalk move. I watched the hand steady.
And I felt, with a clarity that made my chest ache in the best way, the ending that had once felt impossible:
Not that the past disappeared.
But that it no longer owned the future.
THE END!
Disclaimer: Our stories are inspired by real-life events but are carefully rewritten for entertainment. Any resemblance to actual people or situations is purely coincidental.
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